Love Knows No Boundaries
by SummerRaeBenson
Summary: When Francis and Claire's daughter is attacked by the President's son, she goes to extra lengths to seek her revenge and help her father gain the Presidency.
1. chapter 1

**Please review! This is my first House of Cards story, and it feels pretty good to be writing for another show!**

Francis laughed, belly bouncing, as his daughter rubbed her cramping hand. She had a grin on her face though despite her failure playing against him. "I told you I'd win." He said wiping away a few tears that had gathered from his amusement.

"I will win one of these days." James said moving her brunette hair over to one shoulder. She stretched out her hand before wrapping it back around the plastic guitar, her fingers finding the different colored buttons. "Let's go again."

"Don't you think it's time to get to bed. You have a big day tomorrow." Claire said standing in the doorway with a smirk on her lips.

James looked down at her phone. "It's only nine o'clock."

Claire grinned. "I was talking to your father."

"Oh, c'mon, Claire. Five more minutes. I haven't seen her all week; I've been so busy at work." Francis asked looking behind the couch to his wife. "Just let us play American Pie."

James giggled. "Daddy, that song is eleven minutes."

"Shush." Francis said cupping his hand over his daughter's mouth, making her shriek with laughter.

Claire smiled shaking her head. "American pie, and then you are done. Those votes aren't going to whip themselves," she said. "And, let go of our daughter, please. She needs all the energy she can get for her test tomorrow."

Francis looked down at his daughter. "What test?"

"Anatomy." James said trying to get up.

Francis kept her close, her head pressed against his chest. "You don't need to learn about that stuff."

Claire failed at keeping her smile tight lipped. "Tell your father what chapter you are working on."

"The reproductive system." James chuckled, watching as her father nearly passed out at her words.

"Lord, we should've home-schooled you." Francis said before pointing back at Claire. "I blame you."

Claire laughed. "I wouldn't dream of letting her learn about the reproductive system from you. Your sex talk was 'have it, and you'll die'." She walked over and kissed his head, patting his cheek gently. "Your daughter isn't even studying because she knows the material so well."

James messed with controls on the fake drum set her father was using, starting the song without him. She shrieked again when Francis grabbed her and hoisted her over his lap, trapping her so he could play the drums. "No way!"

"I may have just had a stroke, but that doesn't mean you are going to get one over on your old man." Francis smiled before seeing her side play the notes. "How are you doing that?"

"I've got two free hands." James said hitting the different colored buttons on her guitar. "You won't stop an Underwood from winning."

Francis grinned. "That's my girl."

* * *

Francis turned out the light before crawling into bed, wrapping himself around his wife in the process. "What's on the agenda for tomorrow?"

"Nothing too terribly hard." Claire breathed relaxing into his arms. "I need to get something though for Jame's birthday coming up."

"That's right," Francis whispered. "My baby is going to be sixteen. Boy, where did that time go?" He asked, his southern drawl like a sweet symphony to her ears.

Claire sighed contently. "I wonder the same thing." She turned her head to kiss his cheek. "Remember the first year she was here. She wouldn't sleep longer than fifteen minutes at a time."

Francis chuckled. "I remember." He nuzzled his nose against her neck. "I wonder where she got all her energy from."

"She was born for politics." Claire smiled gently. "Like her parents." She kissed the palm of his hand before wrapping it tighter around her small frame. "As tired as we were, I miss those days."

"Me too." Francis agreed before placing a hand over her stomach, remembering when his daughter rested there. "I didn't have to worry about her learning about the reproductive system. She was in yours."

Claire laughed hard, using her hand to muffle the sound. "She's growing up, Francis. We have to adjust to that," she said turning in his arms. "We're good at that. We have to be."

"Can't we just lock her in the basement. That school can't be all that great." Francis asked.

"You are being ridiculous." Claire smiled before running her hand over his eyes, closing them for him. "Part of our legacy is in her. She'll make us proud, Francis."

Francis opened his eyes to look into hers. "I'm already proud of her." He kissed her softly. "Can I show you how proud I am of you?"

Claire smirked, feeling his hands already exploring the territory he knew so well. "What did you have in mind?"

"You didn't let me have dessert tonight." Francis said rolling her onto her back and pulling at the waistband of her pajama bottoms. "I hope you had enough for me."

* * *

"Your meeting with the President is in fifteen minutes." Doug said looking over the schedule sitting in front of him.

Francis glanced down at his watch before scanning the white board again, moving a magnet over to a new column. "I want to get to Barney next. Get a meeting with him as soon as possible."

Doug nodded, already grabbing his phone and a pen. "What about Stafford?"

"We'll get to him later. He's not the majority pull we need right now. Besides, once he turns, Barney will fight back to move him over." Francis said shaking his head, slipping his jacket on over his shoulders. "What time do you think we'll get out of here tonight?"

"I'll let you know when I hear back from Barney." Doug said pressing his phone to his ear and standing. "I've got a car waiting downstairs for us," he whispered before returning his attention to his phone. "Yes, Congressman Barney, please."

* * *

"Mr. President, I'm glad that you could meet with me." Francis smiled shaking Garrett Walker's hand.

"Thanks for meeting with me, Frank." Garrett smiled before moving behind his desk. "How is Claire and James?"

Francis smiled. "Claire is busy as always, and James is reaching the age where, well, my job as a father becomes difficult."

Garrett laughed. "I would believe that. She's what, sixteen?"

"In a few weeks, yes." Francis nodded before clasping his hands together behind his back. "But, I don't believe you brought me here to talk about my family."

"No," Garrett sighed sitting down in his chair, buttoning the gray suit jacket he was wearing. "What I have to tell you isn't easy, Frank."

Francis slapped on a face of concern. "You can talk to me about anything, Mr. President."

Garrett smiled. "I know I can, Frank. That's why this makes this so hard." He pursed his lips together. "I can't take you away from Congress."

"What?" Francis asked ignoring the gut reaction to attack. Now wasn't the time for offensive. "But, sir-"

"I know I promised you Secretary of State, but it's just not my best move right now, Frank." Garrett sighed. "I hope you understand."

Francis bit the inside of his lip. "Well, I'm not one to question the President."

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	2. Chapter 2

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"He took it right out from under you." Claire gasped from her other end of the call.

Francis rubbed his eyes, pressing the orbs back into his skull. "I should've seen it coming. It's a move I would pull."

Claire leaned back in her chair. "Well, what's done is done. What are we going to do?"

"Aim higher." Francis breathed after a beat of silence, already feeling the grin coming from his wife through the phone. "We just need to aim higher."

* * *

Claire smiled seeing her daughter curled up in one of the dining room chairs, biting her index finger, while she glanced between her notebook and her laptop. Kissing her head, she wrapping her arms around her daughter's shoulders. "What is tonight?"

"Early American literature." James sighed before picking up her textbook. "I hate reading. I really do."

"What is this paper about?" Claire asked looking at her daughter's notes and the article she was reading. "Have you read the book?"

James exhaled sharply. "I watched the movie."

Claire smiled before sitting in the chair next to her. "That's not the same. When is this due?"

"Friday morning." James stated pulling her hair back into a ponytail.

Claire nodded. "Good, I'll help you." She slid her heels off, pressing her feet against the rug on the floor. "I have the book up in my room. Start reading it, and I'll read some more to you later tonight." She watched her daughter hurry upstairs before closing the laptop, putting together her materials. "When did you get home?"

"Just now." Francis said coming out of the foyer. "I was surprised I even made it out tonight. Doug and I have been calling people all day. We're not even halfway done with the list."

Claire let his hand slip into hers when he sat down. "Why aren't you there now?"

Francis leaned back, laying his head against the wooden chair. "Too distracted."

"We can't shoot straight up." Claire said, reminding him of their earlier conversation. "We can't go for Secretary of State either."

"No, but we can change who's in there right now." Francis agreed. "I need to get closer so I can tear down from the base of his fucking tower."

Claire nodded. "I'll start looking around. Remy may know something." She saw the frown on his face. "You may not like him, but he's our best shot at this point."

Francis sighed. "I'll think about him." He glanced up the stairs and then down at the pile of notebooks laying underneath Claire's hand. "Homework?"

"Early American Literature." Claire smirked.

Francis grunted as he stood up and walked to the kitchen. "I will be of no help on that subject." He started filing up a glass with water from the sink. "If this works, would you be willing to give up your career?"

Claire stood up, stepping towards him with one heel click echoing louder than the previous one. "I'll make a career in the White House. This is what we've been working for, Francis. I will not squander that." He turned to her, a smirk on her lips. "We're going to show this country just how powerful we can be."

"Not just that, Claire," Francis began stepping towards her. His hand came to rest on her hip, pulling her closer. "We are going to show this country just how ruthless we can be, and they won't even know it." He downed his water, setting the glass on the counter. "We're the only ones who would ever think of doing this."

"Go for the VP." Claire smiled, lost in thought as she gazed past him. "You'll have unlimited access to him. Once he falls-"

Francis grinned. "I win be default." He pecked her lips. "Have I ever told you that your mind is my favorite part about you?"

"And here I thought you only wanted me for my body." Claire said with a sarcastic breath. She straightened the collar on his shirt. "You do realize this puts us in the limelight? Not just us, all of us."

Francis glanced up at the ceiling, hearing his daughter's footsteps above him. He squeezed her hip just a little tighter as his knuckles became a shade whiter. "If they print one word-"

Claire interrupted him. "And, they will."

"I'll destroy them." Francis huffed. "I'm ready to handle people who want to use her as a political strategy. They have to go through me. But, those reporters don't even have to meet her to write about her."

"If you destroy them, it will be very clear that you did it." Claire sighed. "We just have to keep her out of the spotlight as much as possible. Keep her visible, but out of microphone reach."

Francis snorted. "Whether she's in front of the microphone or not, you know that those people will write something to bash her. Remember all those articles about you when we used to campaign? When we were first in office? Even now, your haircut causes an outrage because one reporter says you are speaking out for some cause."

"She's a good kid, Francis. If they find anything worth writing about, it would be about who she's going out with this Friday night." Claire shook her head, pressing her lips together when Francis tried to move past her. "Forget I said that."

Francis pointed toward the staircase. "Who is she going out with, and why haven't I been told?"

Claire pushed on his chest gently, keeping him inside the kitchen. "It doesn't matter, and you have a tendency to overreact."

"I am not overreacting!" Francis boomed grabbing the glass he just drank out of and smashing it against the floor, causing glass fragments to scatter. He looked between the damage and Claire's not so surprised reaction and sighed. "I'm sorry. I'll clean this up."

"I'll get the broom." Claire stated before stepping over shards of glass. "You just focus on getting to Walker. James doesn't even know that I know yet."

Francis frowned as he took the broom. "How did you find out then?"

Claire smiled. "I have my own resources. I just use mine to spy on our daughter and foreign countries while you use yours to whip votes."

"Well, that is my job." Francis countered as he started sweeping.

Claire chuckled as she grabbed a wine bottle from the counter and opened. "Since when did we only do things that fell under our job descriptions?"

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	3. Chapter 3

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Francis watched as his daughter descended the stairs, ready for her date that he still hadn't asked about nor forgotten. "Well, you look lovely," he said taking in his daughter's appearance. "Where are you headed?"

"I have plans with a friend." James smiled pulling on her jacket. "We are heading out to go see a movie."

"That's nice. I hope you have fun." Francis nodded leaning against the banister. "Do I know this friend of yours?"

James slung her purse over her shoulder. "Uh, you've met them. You actually work with their dad."

Francis saw the headlights outside turn off as a shadow came towards the front door. "Really? Who would that be?" He passed his daughter and opened the door before her 'friend' even had the chance to ring the doorbell. "Well, look at that. Gordon Walker."

"Hello, Congressman Underwood." Gordon said before looking to James. "Hey, you ready?"

James nodded her head, joining him on the front steps. Francis grabbed her arm gently. "Why don't you two come on in? We can talk a little bit before you go." He pulled James back slightly, keeping her a comfortable distance away from the President's son.

James kissed his cheek. "We'll be late for our movie, Daddy. I'll text you when I'm on my way home." She took Gordon's hand and hurried with him to his car.

Claire stepped up beside Francis as they watched the two drive down the road. "Did you know he was her date?"

"No," Claire said. "My source couldn't get a name. He just knew he was a politician's child." She handed Francis a folder. "Should we send someone to follow?"

"He's the President's son. They've got four secret service agents and two SUV's." Francis closed the door, putting on his glasses before looking down at the folder. "I don't think we could protect her any more than they could."

"It's not the outside world I'm worried about." Claire said crossing her arms over her chest.

Francis looked up from the folder. "You're worried about Gordon." He peered at her over his glasses. "Have you heard anything about him?"

Claire pulled the folder out of his hand, picking through the papers. "No, but we know that what is written by the reporters usually has some merit." She held out a paper to him. "Remember that article last year about his series of first dates that never ended with him asking for another one."

Francis took off his glasses. "You think he's going to hurt her."

"A kid who believes his father's power extends to him: I wouldn't put it past him." Claire said before taking out another paper. "I may just be overreacting." She began shaking her head, only stopping when Francis pinched her chin gently between his thumb and index finger.

"No, no, you're not." Francis stated kissing her cheek. "I'll listen around and see what I can find out." He looked down at the papers. "Who do you like?"

"Cathy Durant." Claire said pointing at the list. "We can use her."

* * *

Claire walked into the den, watching as Francis swore at the video game he was playing. "Anything?"

Francis slammed his fingers against the controller, teeth clenching together as his hands shook. "She hasn't even looked at her messages." He paused the game, standing up. "I'm going to find her."

"Where are you going to look?" Claire asked, glancing down at her phone. "Whatever movie they would've went to would be over by now. You'll be looking for a needle in a very large haystack."

"At least I won't be waiting here useless." Francis retorted.

They both froze when they heard the front door close. "Mom?" A voice called before there was a loud thud.

Both parents rushed to the front door to find James sitting on the floor, her hand still on the doorknob. "James?" Claire asked hurrying over. "Francis, call the security team. We need to go to the hospital."

"Why?" Francis asked before seeing the blood covering his daughter's leg. "James, put your arm around my neck." He said crouching down. He looked at Claire as he cradled his daughter in his arms. "Open the door."

Claire opened the door and let Francis hurry through with their daughter in his arms. "We need to leave now."

* * *

"Daddy?" James called as Francis and Claire hurried into the hospital, acting as if she was drugged. "Make it stop. Make him stop, please."

"I'll do whatever you want, sweetheart. We just have to get you fixed up." Francis breathed before meeting with the doctor they called in the car, laying her on the gurney waiting for her. "She won't stop bleeding."

The doctor started examining the slash on James' leg. He looked up at the nurse. "We'll need to stitch this up. After that, we'll need to do a blood transfusion."

Francis stepped forward. "I'm her blood type."

James gripped onto Francis' arm again. "Daddy, he won't stop. He'll never stop."

"We're going to get you fixed up, darlin'. Just hang in there." Francis said as a nurse pulled him back.

"Get him prepped. Let's get this stitched before she loses anymore blood." The doctor said before he and a few nurses hurried off.

* * *

When the curtain was pulled back, Francis pulled at his sleeve seeing his wife nervously pacing. "How is she?"

"She's asleep right now." Claire said sitting down next to him and helping him with his cuff link. "Once you're ready, we can go up to her room."

"I'm ready now." Francis said standing up before putting a hand to his head, fighting off the dizziness. He shook his head when Claire put her hands on his shoulders to steady him. "I'm fine."

Claire helped him sit back down. "Francis, I already have one member of my family in a hospital bed. Please, do not make it two."

Francis nodded once, seeing the concern on her face. "What have the doctors said? What happened to James?"

"They haven't talked to her yet, but they think she was cut with a knife. After examining her clothes, they found more cuts and tears. She has a few bruises, but it doesn't look like she was sexually assaulted. They'll do further testing if she says otherwise." Claire explained to her husband, straightening out his shirt and tie. "We should've stopped her. We should've pushed harder."

"We didn't know this would happen." Francis said trying to keep his wife from feeling guilt for this. "There is no way that we could have known this would happen. Claire, this is his fault."

Claire slipped her hand into his. "The hardest part is going to be convincing James of that."

Francis sighed kissing her hand before clapping it between both of his. "I know."

"This is unbearable, Francis." Claire whispered, holding a hand to her stomach. "I can feel it. I can feel her pain right now."

"Me too." Francis said wrapped his arms around her and pulling her close. "We're going to get her through this, alright? We knew that having her could lead to a situation like this. We have to be strong to keep her going. We need to be better than our parents were to us more than ever."

Claire rested her head on his chest. "What if he attacked her, Francis?"

Shh," Francis breathed. "Let's not talk about that." He rubbed her back before humming softly to her.

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	4. Chapter 4

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Francis brushed back some of James' hair, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Has she come to yet?" Claire asked, clearing her throat of after sleeping in the leather chair. She tightened Francis' suit jacket around herself as she stood up, straightening her hair with her hand.

"No," Francis said, "she's still asleep."

Claire looked up at the clock on the wall. "It's been five hours. She should've been awake by now."

Francis stood up. "I'll go ask the doctor."

"Daddy?" James moaned softly as her eyes fluttered open. "Where are we?"

Francis hurried back to his daughter's side. "We're at the hospital, sugar. Do you remember what happened last night?"

James looked down at her leg, seeing the stitches pulling together the red skin. "He wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer." Her body shook as sobs started to wrack her body. Claire sat down next to her, wrapping her arms tightly around her daughter.

Francis cupped the back of his daughter's head, resting his forehead against hers. "I'm sorry, James."

* * *

Claire helped her daughter situate her dinner tray over her lap, avoiding her leg above the blanket. "Just eat as much as you can."

"I feel sick." James said looking at the food.

"I know." Claire sighed kissing her head. "But, we need that leg to heal."

James picked up her fork and started pushing her food around. "When can I go home?"

"I can talk to the doctor and see what's going on." Francis said picking up her cookie. He was about to bite into it when James snatched it out of his hands. "I thought you said you were feeling sick."

James moved the cookie to the other side of the tray. "I still want it."

Claire looked at her watch. "We still have to call the school too."

"I'll call when I go see the doctor." Francis said before brushing his daughter's hair away from her face. "I'll be right back."

James nodded. "Okay."

Claire looked after Francis as he left before turning back to her daughter, wrapping her hand around hers. "I know that you don't want to talk about what happened, but it'll be better for you if you do. It's healthier if you do." She sat on the edge of the bed, glancing down at the gash in James' leg. "I can tell your father if you want me to."

"I'm afraid of what he'll do." James admitted tearing up.

"Of Gordon?" Claire asked with a slight frown.

James shook her head. "No, Dad."

* * *

"Your daughter should be ready to go home in a few days. I want to monitor her leg to avoid any complications. She will need physical therapy before she leaves though." The doctor said hugging his clipboard to his chest as he looked at the congressman.

Francis' eyes widened. "Physical therapy? How deep was the cut?"

Sighing, the doctor explained further. "It was deep enough to damage a few nerves and tear into one of her muscles. The physical therapy is for the muscle to gain back it's strength, but the nerves are permanently damaged. I'm afraid she won't have feeling down the left side of her leg." He saw Francis turn pale rather quickly. "Are you alright, Congressman?"

"I just need... to sit." Francis said sitting down in the chair near the nurse's station. "What does this mean for my daughter?"

"She can still live a normal life, as long as she sticks to the physical therapy." He said putting a hand on Francis' shoulder. "I'll also need to know what happened for her to get that laceration before she is checked out. I can't let her go home if she's not safe."

Francis stood up, glaring at the doctor. "My daughter did not get this because of my wife or I. Despite what you may think of me, I would never hurt my daughter." He turned to walk back to the room when he heard a voice that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

"Frank." Garrett called as he hurried to catch up with the congressman.

Francis turned to find Garrett and Gordon hurrying over to him from the elevator. He clenched his jaw seeing the smirk look on Gordon's face, his hair falling in front of his eyes. "Mr. President, what on Earth are you doing here?"

Garrett pointed towards the elevators. "There are reporters everywhere down in the lobby. The story is covering the news. They keep playing a clip of you carrying James into the hospital. Is she okay?"

"She's fine. The doctor expects her to make a full recovery." Francis said with a nod before looking at Gordon. "She must've met the wrong person coming home from her date with you."

Gordon nodded in agreement. "I knew I should've driven her home."

"If there is anything we can do to help, just let us know. The guy that did this should be put behind bars." Garrett said putting a hand on his shoulder.

Francis continued to stare at Gordon. "Believe me; the person that did this will pay. I don't care who they are or what they're capable of. They will pay, and I will make sure of it personally." He looked back to Garrett, slapping on a look of concern and gratitude. "I appreciate that you would come down to check on my family. It really means a lot. I'm sure James would be happy to see you, but the doctors want her to rest for the time being."

"Well, then we will follow the doctor's orders." Garrett said before handing Francis the flowers in his hand. "Just tell her we are praying for her."

Francis smiled kindly looking down at the flowers. "I will be sure to do that."

* * *

James bit her lip. "I don't want Daddy to be mad."

Claire cupped James' face in her hands. "What happened is not your fault. I'm not going to lie. Your father is already mad." She held her tighter when she tried to pull away. "We both are. Gordon Walker is not going to get away with this."

"He's the President's son. One word and he'll be out of the country." James said.

Claire kissed her head. "Then, we find another way to make him pay for this. I know that your father is a little scary when he's mad, but... we don't have to be scared. He's fighting for you."

"What is he going to do?" James asked.

"Whatever it takes." Claire breathed before lifting the cover off of her daughter's food. "Now, eat." She turned when she saw Francis walk into the room holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand. "You went to the gift shop?"

Francis chucked the flowers into the waste basket. "Garrett Walker did."

Claire stood. "Garrett came here."

"Along with Gordon." Francis snarled. "That little punk has a lot of nerve coming here and acting like nothing happened."

"Gordon was here?" James asked from the bed.

Francis took off his jacket. "Yes, but I sent him away, darling. He's gone."

James pushed her food tray away. "He's not going to leave me alone. He knows I can't report him."

"We'll get him." Francis said walking over to her. "I promise. He won't come near you."

James bit her lip and looked to her mother for confirmation before turning back to Francis. "In order for things to go our way, we have to do this our way. We can't involve anyone else."

Francis kissed the crown of her head. "Anything for you, princess."

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	5. Chapter 5

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"Physical therapy?" James asked as the nurse rolled the wheelchair up to the side of her bed. "Really?"

"You won't be able to leave without it." Francis reminded his daughter, looking over the newspaper in the corner chair. "Your mother won't be happy if she comes here and finds out you refused to do it."

James rolled her eyes before moving the blankets away from her legs. "Fine." With the nurse's help, she maneuvered herself into the wheel chair, groaning when her leg protested. "What am I going to be doing?"

The nurse grabbed onto the wheelchair handles. "We'll test your leg first, see how much mobility you have, and then we'll start having you do simple exercises to get the muscles working again."

"Does she have to go by herself?" Francis asked watching his daughter cringe at the slightest twitch of movement.

"You can join us, Congressman." The nurse smiled before walking out of the room.

James sat on the small mat on the floor, her leg sprawled out on the floor. "Okay, I'm going to sit right here. I won't touch you. I want you to bend your leg in towards your other thigh, as if you were going to sit Indian style." The nurse explained.

"Alright," James said nervously before leaning back on her hands for support. Her toes twitched before her leg started moving. She had barely bent her leg when she screamed out, falling back onto the mat.

Francis kneeled down by his daughter. "What's going on?"

"The muscle must've tore deeper than the doctor originally thought." The nurse explained. "The muscle is probably stiff too. It's been a few days since she's had to use it."

"Just cut it off." James cried out before Francis pulled her into his arms. "If it's useless, just cut it off."

Francis held her tighter against his chest. "Shh, shh, shh. C'mon darlin', just calm down." Her sobs wracked her body, the force hitting him in the chest. "We're going to be okay."

"Daddy, it hurts." James sobbed.

Francis kissed the crown of her head before looking at the nurse. "Can we have a moment, please?" The nurse nodded before walking out of the gym, closing the door behind her. Putting James down gently onto the mat, he moved his hand over the bandage on her thigh. "Look at me, darlin'."

James looked up at him before she felt the sharp pain in her leg again. "No!" She struggled to keep her breathing under control. The lack of mobility along with the strength weighing down on her leg from her father's hand made it impossible to escape the situation. "Daddy, please."

"Hey, hey, hey, listen to me," Francis began. "That pain, I need you to use that, James. The reason you're in pain right now is because of Gordon Walker." He applied more pressure to his daughter's leg, making her cry out again. "If you want him to suffer like you are right now, you need to fight through this. You need to be the strongest god damned woman you can be."

James grabbed her father's wrist when he applied more pressure. "I wanna fight."

Francis removed his hand from her leg and moved behind her, helping her sit back up. "Then, let's do this."

"You must've been hungry." Claire said seeing her daughter's plate completely clean. "Did they push you that hard in physical therapy?" She shed her coat and draped it over the chair in the corner, catching the glance James gave to her father. "Francis?"

"They barely coached her. It was like watching a team of little league kids getting trophies just for showing up to the field." Francis stated before looking at his watch. "I wish I didn't have to leave, but I've got an important meeting to attend if we're going to keep striving forward." He kissed James' head before pecking Claire's cheek. "I will be back as soon as I can."

James shook her head. "Get some proper sleep. You two have been taking watches ever since I was brought here."

Francis smiled as he rested his hand on the doorknob. "You know I just loathe the idea of sleep."

Claire sighed as her husband left the room, leaving her alone with their daughter. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just a little sore." James said leaning back into the pillows. "The nurse said that my muscle might've torn more than they thought. They said it could be another two months of physical therapy if that's the case."

"How do you feel about that?" Claire asked sitting down on the edge of the bed, putting together the dishes from her daughter's meal.

James exhaled sharply through her nose. "I just want to walk without asking for the nurse to amputate me." She looked down at her leg, tracing the discolored damaged nerves around the stitches. "I asked the nurse to do that today. It hurt so bad, Mom. I just wanted the pain to stop."

Claire wiped away a stray tear from her daughter's face. "What did your father tell you to do?"

"He told me to use the pain." James breathed. "Said that the pain I was feeling was Gordon's fault. Said I should use it to motivate me into delivering the same to him."

"And?" Claire asked taking James' hand into her own.

James looked at her mother in the eyes. "I want him to feel more than the pain I felt today. I want him to hurt so much more than that." She squeezed her mother's hand. "I want him dead, Mom. I've never wanted anyone dead. I've never wished harm on anybody. This anger, this hate, it's eating away at me."

Claire felt the cotton ball lodge in her throat. "I know, baby." She cupped her face in her hands. "I know that hate. It's like a searing hot knife piercing your heart, and the only way to stop that is by hurting the person that did that to you. You want to watch them suffer at your hands, watch them beg for you stop." She pushed her hair back. "It's a tempting fantasy."

"I want that reality." James whispered. "I have a plan."

"Am I going to like this plan of yours?" Claire asked. She felt the uneasiness begin to boil deep in her gut. The gears in her daughter's head were turning behind the innocent blue eyes she created years ago. She could feel her own pain for her trauma begin to rise too. The anger, the want for revenge. It was an all-consuming feeling that she often tried to push aside for the sake of her sanity. But now that her daughter was facing the same feelings, hers couldn't be pushed aside. It was one thing to come after her, but to mess with her daughter was another thing all together.

James shook her head. "No, but you'll let me do it anyway."

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	6. Chapter 6

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"Well, you surprised me, Ms. Underwood." The doctor told James as he looked down at her chart. "Your leg has made it through more physical therapy than I have seen in some professional athletes. I will get your papers ready, and you should be ready to head home this afternoon."

"Thanks." James said before the doctor left the room. She leaned back in the bed and noticed her smirking parents. "What are you two up to?"

Claire stood up from Francis' lap. "I don't know what you are talking about. We are just proud of you for pushing through this." She kissed the crown of her daughter's head. "What's the agenda now that you're breaking out of here?"

James looked past her mother to her father. "Daddy?"

"In twenty-four hours, I will be the Vice President." Francis said with a grin before standing up himself. "I've hired another person for our protective detail. His name is Edward Meechum. He will be watching you, James."

James rolled her eyes. "Exactly, how much will he be watching me?"

Francis buttoned up his blazer jacket. "If it's necessary, he will set camp outside your bedroom door."

"Just what I need." James said sarcastically.

"He'll take care of you when your mother and I are working." Francis said before kissing Claire's cheek. "He listens to my orders, so it won't matter what you tell him. He'll only listen to me." He walked around the bed and kissed James' head, hugging her to his chest briefly. "I've already laid down some ground work. He should be a good one."

Claire handed him his cuff links. "Go. Keep Garrett happy long enough to secure this." She watched as he pushed the gold charms into his sleeves. "What time do you think you'll be home?"

Francis opened the door to the hospital room. "I'll be home before dinner gets cold."

* * *

"Hey, no, no, no. No stairs until you can walk to the kitchen without hobbling." Claire said grabbing her daughter by the waist before she hopped onto the first step. "We brought you enough things from your room to keep you entertained down here in the den."

James groaned as her mother helped her sit down on the white couch, slowly lifting her legs to rest on the cushions. "I can't sleep here until my leg heals. The doctor wants me to keep working."

Claire spread out a blanket, draping it over her daughter's frame. "Yes, but he didn't say anything about you falling down the stairs and having to go back into the hospital." She kissed James' head. "You are not allowed on those stairs unless your father or I help you."

"I feel like I'm two again: being told I can't do things by myself." James sighed as Claire walked towards the kitchen.

"You were a lot simpler back then." Claire smiled as she opened the fridge. "All I had to do was pick you up if I didn't want you to go somewhere or do something." She looked back in on James. "Are you hungry?"

James shook her head. "Not for a meal, no."

Claire opened the freezer and pulled out a pint of ice cream. "How about this?"

"I could go for that." James nodded before waiting for her mother to join her on the couch.

Claire sat down on the couch, maneuvering James' legs so they laid over her lap. She handed her one of the two spoons before opening the ice cream carton. "So, what exactly is this master plan of yours? I know what you're feeling, all too well, but, if I had chosen to do what you're doing now, I wouldn't know what my plan of action would be? Especially at your age."

James swallowed down her spoonful of ice cream. "I want him to feel the way I have every day since he pulled out that knife on me in the car." She said. "Dad was right. During my first physical therapy session, I was in so much pain. I could hardly bend my leg without crying out. I asked the nurse to cut off my leg; it hurt so bad." She ran a hand through her hair. "Dad sent the nurse out and reminded me why I was in that pain. He reminded me that the pain I was going through was because of Gordon. I want him to feel the pain. I want him to feel trapped."

"What are you going to do?" Claire asked swallowing her own bite. "I'm here to help."

"I know you are, Mom." James said before resting her head on Claire's shoulder. "At this point, I don't know what I'm going to do, but I need that Meechum guy's help. I need his trust."

Claire laid her head on her daughter's. "Just be careful."

James sighed contently. "I will." She exhaled gently, enjoying the comfort from her mother. "I missed this."

"Missed what?" Claire asked pressing her nose into James' hair.

"That. You resting your head on mine. You used to do it every night when you would read me a bedtime story." James whispered closing her eyes. "Most nights, it was the only reason I got ready for bed. It was my favorite part."

Claire grinned. "I didn't know that."

James curled tighter into her mother's side. "I never told you?"

"No," Claire said shaking her head. "But, I'm glad you did now." She kissed the crown of her head, digging her spoon back into the carton of ice cream.

* * *

Francis walked into the dark foyer, the only light coming from the microwave light in the kitchen. The small bulb underneath created a silhouette for every piece of furniture in the dining room. "Claire?" He called into the darkness. "Claire?" He turned his head when he caught movement out of the corner of his eyes. "Claire?"

"It's me, Francis." Claire breathed not bothering to look his way.

Francis walked around the couch so she could see him. "What's going on?"

Claire shook her head. "Nothing. I must have fallen asleep." She lifted up the empty carton of ice cream. "After finishing this."

"You haven't finished a carton of ice cream since college." Francis grinned taking the container from her hand, looking inside to see if she had actually finished it.

"Don't remind me." Claire smiled before rubbing her daughter's arm. "We just started talking. She fell asleep, and I guess I wasn't far behind her."

Francis sat down on the coffee table across from her, clasping his hands together between his legs. "How do you think she's really doing?" He reached out and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, allowing him to see her peaceful face.

Claire rested her head on hers. "I'm not sure. But, she's definitely not okay." She took in Francis' disheveled clothing and tired eyes. "Long day?"

"Just hassle about where we are going to live. They insist that we move into a more secure location." Francis sighed. "I told them this was better than anyplace else. Besides," he took Claire's hand into his own. "I don't think moving would be the best idea right now."

Claire smiled. "Probably not." She squeezed his fingers. "She's turning into the person we never wanted her to be. She's turning into us, Francis."

"I know." Francis breathed looking out the front windows. "As much as we tried to avoid it, it still happened." He rubbed his daughter's back, careful not to wake her. "Do you think her plan is to kill Gordon?"

"No," Claire shook her head. "But, who knows what could happen in the heat of the moment. We certainly know the consequences of that." She saw car lights flash outside. "New detail too?"

"Meechum is here." Francis nodded before standing up and heading towards the kitchen. "Are you hungry?"

Claire gently laid her daughter back against the couch. "Starving. Got any mystery with a side of revenge."

Francis opened the cupboards in the kitchen. "Not tonight, but I do have hard work with a possible side of good old-fashioned fucking."

"I'm not really hungry for hard work at this hour." Claire said getting up from the couch. "But, the side sounds good."

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	7. Chapter 7

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James groaned sitting down at the kitchen counter, smiling when her father set down a plate in front of her. "Morning."

"Good morning." Francis said before setting down her orange juice. "How's the leg?"

"It hurts." James sighed digging into her eggs.

Francis frowned as he pulled his blazer jacket on. "Did the pain medication stop working?"

James shook her head. "I'm not going to take it." She tossed the bottle of pills onto the counter. "I'll take the antibiotics, but I'm not taking the pain meds, Daddy."

"If you can handle it, I'm all for it." Francis said picking up the bottle and settling it down properly by the sink. "Now, your mother and I won't be home until late tonight. I'm being sworn in as VP, and there will be a lot for me to do. Do you want Meechum to bring you down to the White House or would you rather stick around here?"

"Is Gordon going to be there?" James asked setting down her fork.

Francis glanced towards the dining room when he could no longer hear Claire's footsteps on the wooden floor, her heels now frozen on the spot. "I don't know, darlin'."

Claire walked into the kitchen, wrapping her arm around her daughter's shoulders. "If he is there, we'll be there. Meechum will be there as well." She looked over at the new member of their security team that was waiting to assist their daughter in anyway possible. "It'll be hard, but you'll feel better being there to support your father than hide out here."

"I suppose." James said before looking down at her bandaged leg. "What am I going to wear?"

Francis grinned. "There's my girl."

James hopped down from the barstool. "I need to look in my closet."

"No," Claire laughed, putting her daughter back in the chair. "Eat first." She slipped on her bracelet, looking up to Francis when it was secured on her wrist. "Ready to go?"

Francis nodded once before downing the rest of his coffee. "I'll see you later." He said before kissing James' head. "Take it easy on the new guy."

James watched as her parents left the house hand in hand. She glanced over her shoulder to Meechum, standing as stiff as a board. "Have you ever done this before? Protect somebody, I mean."

"Not somebody as important as you." Meechum stated, never moving a muscle below his neck. "You should eat, Miss. We'll have to leave in the next few hours." James turned back to her breakfast, slowly eating what her father had put onto her plate. "May I ask you a question, Miss?"

"Only if you started calling me James." James smirked before lifting up her glass of orange juice.

Meechum nodded once. "Alright. Why do you not want to see Gordon Walker?"

"I'm scared of him." James picked up a knife from the kitchen counter and lowered it to her bandages.

"What are you doing?" Meechum asked reaching for the knife in her hands.

James slid the blade underneath her bandages. "I have to rewrap this anyway." She tugged on the knife, feeling the air brush against her skin as the bandages fell away. The gash in her leg came into few, the stitches holding her healing skin together. The veins around the laceration were dark, highlighted by the damaged white nerves around it. "He did this to me."

Meechum watched as she put the knife on the counter, shoved the bandages away from her leg, and looked up at him. "What happened?"

"I wasn't allowed to say no." James said before getting down from the barstool again. "He didn't rape me if that's what you're thinking." She pushed the plate towards him. "I'm done eating."

"I'll take care of it," Meechum breathed, "James."

James smiled. "Thanks Edward."

"You look great, James." Meechum said as James fidgeted with the dress she had chosen to wear.

"That's not what I'm worried about." James breathed as she walked with him towards the Oval office. "I don't want to look like I'm feeling."

Meechum frowned. "What are you feeling?"

James huffed out a breath. "Like I'm about to fall apart."

"There you are!" Claire said walking down the hallway towards them. "They are about to swear in your father. Now, Gordon is in the room. I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to go home. Your father would understand."

James shook her head. "No, I want to do this. I need to do this." She looked down at her dress before looking back up at her mother. "Do I look the part?"

Claire smiled before kissing her forehead. "You look as powerful as ever. Your father is in the next room. Go say hi before he goes into the Oval." She watched as her daughter made her way through the double doors at the end of the hallway. "How is she really doing?"

"I think she's scared, but she'll get through this, Ma'am." Meechum stated before glancing at Claire. "I really should be with her at all times, Mrs. Underwood."

"Go ahead." Claire smirked, watching as the young man hurried after her daughter. "Looks like the apple doesn't fall from the tree."

Francis held onto his daughter's shoulders. "Darlin', you don't have to do this. I would completely understand if you wanted to go home."

James shook her head. "I won't let him think he has that kind of control over me." She kissed her father's cheek, giving him a small smile. "But, thank you, Daddy."

"It's time, Frank." Garrett said from the Oval Office doorway. "Are you ready?"

Francis turned to see Claire walk up behind him. "I am now."

"Congratulations, Mr. Vice President." Garrett smiled shaking Francis' hand. They both turned to smile at the flashing cameras.

Claire leaned closer to her daughter who seemed to be attached to Meechum by an invisible leash. "How are you doing?"

"Starting to get nervous." James whispered to her mother. "He hasn't stopped staring at me since we walked in."

"It's almost over." Claire reminded her, slipping her hand into James'.

As the photographers left the room, Francis walked over to Claire and James, tugging on his cuffs as if dusting them off. "One step closer." He kissed Claire's cheek, resting his hand on her lower back. "We have a situation in China."

"You want help?" Claire asked.

Francis nodded. "Your opinion would be helpful." He turned to James. "Do you mind hanging out with Meechum the rest of the day?"

"No, that's fine." James breathed. She gripped her mother's hand when she saw Gordon sitting on the couch, staring at her, with an arrangement of hunting knives resting on the coffee table in front of him. He was holding the knife he had used to cut her. "Daddy."

Francis stepped in front of James, turning his attention to the President. "I didn't realize we were carving an animal to toast the occasion."

Garrett chuckled softly. "Sorry. Gordon, put those away." He stepped closer to Francis. "He's been getting into hunting lately. I don't understand why. He's never been hunting."

"Can I at least show them the one you got me?" Gordon asked walking up beside his father.

"Fine, but only for a moment." Garrett smiled a stepped to the side, allowing his son to step forward.

Francis reached back and grabbed his daughter's hand that was clinging to his suit jacket when Gordon lifted up the knife. The blade was medium sized, a little shorter than a butter knife, but was hooked at the end, a tool used to rip flesh from an animal. It reeked of bleach. "Do you know how to use that kind of knife?" He asked.

Gordon smirked. "I've been practicing."

"Sir, I'm sorry to interrupt, but I need to get James to her appointment." Meechum said stepping up next to Francis.

Francis turned to Meechum, glancing at his daughter. "Alright." Hugging James, he kissed the side of her head. "I'll see you tonight, darlin'."

James squeezed his hand. "Bye Daddy."

"I'll walk you out." Claire said tugging on her daughter's hand.

Once they walked out of the room, James turned to Meechum. "I don't remember having an appointment today."

"You don't, but I needed to get you out of there." Meechum stated glancing at the closed door. "That was the knife, wasn't it?"

James put a hand on her stomach, trying to ease the twisting knots. "Yes." She closed her eyes, relying on the support from Meechum's arm wrapped around her waist. "I need to go home."

Claire hugged her daughter. "The car is out front." She looked back at Meechum. "Call me when you two get back to the house."

"Yes, Ma'am." Meechum nodded before walking with James out of the White House.

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	8. Chapter 8

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"That little weasel had the nerve to pull that knife out in the Oval Office!" Francis boomed to Claire and Doug. "I want him taken care of now."

"Francis-" Claire began, but was cut off when he shouted again.

"No!" Francis said, his hand moving as if to create a barrier for the end of the conversation. "I don't care if he is sitting next to Garrett, holding his hand, in front of the nation when I do it. I will not stand for this."

Claire glanced at Doug before cocking her head to the side. "If you do this, James will never forgive you."

"I'm doing this for her." Francis gritted out, slamming his hand down against his desk. "You saw her reaction. You saw what he's put her through. You want me to just sit on the sidelines and let him torture her?"

"Yes." Claire stated simply. She watched as Francis' anger turned to shock. "I want Gordon Walker to suffer as much as you do, but there is one person who wants him to suffer more than us. That is our daughter. She is the one he hurt. She is the one to end him."

Francis motioned for Doug to leave the office. Once he excused himself, Francis leaned over his desk, never taking his eyes off of his wife. "We don't even know what James is going to do. For all we know, she will decide that she wants to be a better person and spare him."

Claire nodded once. "If that is her choice, we have to respect that." She walked up to the desk. "This is her war, Francis. We are just the followers this time."

"When have we ever been the followers?" Francis asked sitting down in his chair.

"Since our daughter is the one under attack." Claire reminded him, taking his hand into hers.

* * *

Meechum nodded with the phone pressed against his ear outside James' bedroom door. "Yes, Ma'am, she is about to start working on her physical therapy."

"Okay, let me talk to her." Claire said as she looked over paperwork with Francis. Although they were in crisis mode at the White House, that didn't mean she couldn't still be the mother she wanted to be. She glanced over at Francis and swatted his hand when she saw him reaching for his stash of cigars.

"James?" Meechum knocked on the door. "It's your mother. She'd like to talk with you."

A moment later, James opened the door in a pair of shorts and an athletic jacket. Her leg had a fresh bandage after only putting on the bare minimum to her father's ceremony. "Thanks Meechum." She breathed before taking the phone into her hands. "Hi Mom."

Claire's shoulders dropped in relieve. "I'm glad you're home safe."

"Me too." James agreed as she dropped down onto her bed. "I knew it would be bad, but I didn't think it would be a catastrophe."

"Yes, your father and I have been trying to figure out why he would pull a stunt like that in front of us, let alone in the Oval." Claire explained turning over the page in her hand. "But, it's over now. How are you doing? Please tell me that the stress didn't do anything."

James looked down at her leg. "No, I'm fine. It'll be a different story tonight when I try to sleep, but I'm okay."

Claire leaned back in her chair. "How often are you having night terrors?"

"I've had them the past few nights. Meechum has been helping me." James sighed glancing at him in the doorway. He was motionless in his black suit, the ear piece cord hanging down from is ear. She knew he could hear her, but it was like a stone wall was there to keep him from acknowledging her conversation. "I don't really know when he sleeps."

"I was just wondering the same thing," Claire said. "How about tonight we send him home? I can stay with you in your room. Maybe a familiar person will keep you calmer during your sleep."

James pulled her pillow down to lay her head on it. "That would probably be a good idea. You can bring it up when you come home." She curled up her good leg, snuggling into her mattress. "Will Dad be home tonight?"

Claire, again, glanced to Francis. He flipped a page he had just read over, returning back to the large stack of papers he had yet to read. "If he does, you probably won't see him."

"Can I talk to him?" James asked.

Claire smiled. "Of course. I'll see you later tonight, okay? I love you."

"Love you too, Mom." James smiled.

"Francis," Claire began. Francis looked up from the papers, his reading glasses sitting on the edge of his nose. "It's James."

Francis took the phone and removed his glances, leaning back in his chair as he tossed them onto his desk. "Hey darlin', how you doing?"

James smiled hearing the southern drawl in her father's voice, giving her a sense of comfort that she only found in her parents. "Well, I'm trying to pump myself up for therapy. It's not working. I just keep seeing the knife in my head. In the car, I only saw it for a second before he cut me. I didn't realize what kind of knife it was until he held it up today."

"You were just tryin' to survive, darlin'." Francis said cringing when he recalled the fear he felt from his daughter's touch when she saw the knife. "You just forget about that knife. It can't hurt you anymore. You just focus on healing up so no other person will have to suffer from it."

"Do you think I'm doing the right thing, Daddy?" James asked looking out her bedroom window, watching the bare branches of the tree sway with the wind outside. "Do you think that I should be going about this a different way?"

Francis closed his eyes, letting his head rest against the back of his new office chair. "Baby, if you weren't doing this, I'd be doing something far worse. Sometimes, the only way to do the right thing is by doing it the wrong way."

James smiled. "You were just working with your speech writers, weren't you?"

"Yes," Francis chuckled, "but they had nothing as good as that." He leaned back over his desk. "I'd love to talk to you more, but I've got work to do, darlin'. I'll come see you when I get home even if you're sleeping."

"Okay, bye Daddy." James said with a yawn. "Love you."

Francis grinned. "Love you too."

Hitting the screen to end the call, Francis let the phone drop to the desk. His thumb and index finger began rubbing the sore skin of his nose where his glasses usually sat. "What did she say?" His wife's voice made his ears perk.

"She's questioning herself." Francis stated. "I'm not sure what to hope for."

"She becomes us in one of these scenarios, Francis." Claire reminded him, folding her hands over her lap.

Francis sighed. "I know. That's what worries me."

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	9. Chapter 9

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"I really wish you would take it a little easier on yourself." Meechum sighed as he helped James up the stairs. Her workout had left her cringing with every step. She didn't stop until he physically took her off of the step machine.

"I need to push myself." James panted as she hopped up another step, relying on Meechum's arm to keep her standing. "If I don't, it will take even longer to put Gordon in his place."

Meechum squeezed her arm a little tighter. "You do realize you are talking about the President's son. Legally, I should be reporting this."

James turned towards him, ignoring his discomfort of this interaction being on the staircase. "Will you?"

"No." Meechum said after a moment. "I know what he's done in the past, and he could've killed you if you hadn't gotten home when you did."

James climbed up the last few steps. "I ran out of the car and bled for twenty blocks before I got home. If I had run into the wrong people, who knows what would have become of me." She turned towards her room, limping the short distance to her door. "Why did you lie about the appointment today? The real reason, please."

Meechum looked down at his shoes before standing up straight, as if suddenly remembering he was a secret service member here to protect someone. "It was painful to see you go through that fear. I just wanted to get you out of there and do my job."

"What's your job?" James asked with a frown.

"To protect you." Meechum said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "It's a job I take very seriously, a job I will fulfill even if it costs me my life. That's why I want you to take it easy. I can't protect you from something that's already happened, but I can protect you from you. So, just do me a favor and don't beat yourself up more than what Gordon Walker already has."

James smiled. "Pretty sure I don't take orders from you... but I'll try."

* * *

Claire walked through the front door of her house, trying to distance herself from the mess that had become of it with people barging in and out to keep it guarded enough for the Vice President. "James?" She called.

"We're up here, Ma'am." Meechum said from the top of the stairs. His tie flung away from his button up shirt, his jacket no where on his frame.

She slowly ascended the stairs, seeing the light on in her daughter's room. Pushing the door open, she found James and Meechum sitting on her bed playing cards. "Don't tell me your taking his money." Claire chuckled seeing the scene in front of her.

Meechum grinned. "If we had used regular money, I'd be broke."

"A little poker isn't going to hurt the healing process." James grinned before picking at the wrap around her leg. "The doctor said I could start sleeping without it."

"Good, I'm glad." Claire nodded before looking to Meechum. "I know that you have been here all week. Why don't you take the night off? Go home. Get some sleep."

Meechum stood. "It's fine if you want me to stay here, Ma'am. I take great pride in protecting your daughter."

Claire shook her head. "I'm happy that you do, but I would feel better if you had a peaceful rest at home. I will be leaving with Francis in the morning, and that will most likely be before sunrise."

Meechum looked to James. She grinned up at him. "It's fine, Edward. We'll be okay for one night."

"Alright," Meechum reluctantly agreed. "I'll be back tomorrow morning." He picked up his jacket from the chair in the corner of the room and nodded before leaving the room.

"He seems to be growing attached." Claire stated strutting over to the bed casually, letting her fingertips graze the wood of her daughter's bed frame.

James tore more of her bandage away. "I need him to be."

"And, you?" Claire asked grabbing the waist bin from underneath the nightstand, holding it up for James to toss the used bandage in.

James ripped away the last layer, gently pushing her skin to circulate the blood. "He wants to protect me. It's hard not to become attached." She leaned back against her headboard. "I know you're paying him to guard me, but he's not like the other guys you've hired for me."

Claire nodded with a slight smile. "I know." She sat down on the bed, running her fingers along the healing scabs on her daughter's thigh. "Just be careful. We're about to be in one of America's biggest spotlights. We don't want any more skeletons than the ones we do once we get there."

"I will." James breathed before noticing the tired look on her mother's face. "How was work?"

"I had more fun negotiating with China than your father did with Walker." Claire said before standing, her heels clicking as she walked to the door. "I'm going to change, and then I'll be in. Do you need anything before I come back?"

James put a rubber band around the deck of cards her and Meechum had been playing with. "No, I'm okay."

* * *

Francis opened the door to his bedroom, frowning when he saw the neatly made bed. There wasn't even a wrinkle in the comforter. Tossing his jacket aside, he walked down the hallway to his daughter's room. He smiled seeing Claire and James sleeping in the mountain of pillows and blankets that covered his daughter's bed. Making his way around, he squatted down next to his wife, rubbing her shoulder. "Claire?"

"Francis?" Claire yawned as she woke up. "What time is it?"

"It's almost one." Francis said glancing at his watch. He cupped the side of her face. "What are you doing in here?"

Claire looked over at their daughter, chuckling softly seeing her body sprawled out in a way that would put her or Francis on bedrest for a day if they even attempted the position. "Hoping to help our daughter get a good night's rest without a night terror."

Francis kissed her head. "C'mon, sleep in our bed."

"I don't want to leave her alone in here." Claire sighed sitting up. She rubbed her neck, feeling the effects of sleeping on a different mattress. "I almost had to have Meechum forcibly removed just to get him to spend a night away from her."

"I wouldn't dream of leaving her alone. I'll bring her in with us." Francis stated before standing up, walking around the bed to his daughter's side. "Go ahead now. We need to be back in the White House in five hours."

Claire smiled before slipping out of the bed, waiting at the door as Francis picked up their daughter and carried her out to their bedroom. When he laid her down on their bed, Claire laid down beside her. "Not changing?" She asked as he climbed into the bed on the other side.

Francis crossed his legs, resting his hands over his stomach. "I'll change my tie in the morning." He smiled and hummed softly, tapping his toes against the sole of his shoe to keep the rhythm.

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	10. Chapter 10

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Claire slipped her dress over her shoulders, smiling when Francis came up behind her and zipped it up. His fingers tickled the back of her neck before he pressed his lips to her shoulder. "We should get going." He breathed into her ear, meeting her eyes in the mirror in front of them.

"Is Meechum here yet?" Claire asked turning to him, playing with his tie to straighten it the way she liked it.

"He is downstairs." Francis smiled. "You like him?"

Claire grabbed her earrings from the counter behind her, putting them into her ears as she spoke. "He cares for our daughter. I feel at ease knowing he's here with her."

Francis stepped back towards their closet, quickly grabbing the matching jacket to his slacks. "Exactly, how much does he care for our daughter?" He held up his hands in defense when she glared at him. "He's alone with her all day, and she's not exactly ready to be fending off more guys who want only one thing."

"He wants to protect her, Francis. He wouldn't hurt her." Claire stated before kissing the corner of his mouth. "He reminds me of you: how protective he is of her."

Francis put his hands on her hips. "I'm protective of both of you."

Claire chuckled softly. "I'm well aware." She looked back out to their bedroom when her daughter turned over on the bed out of the corner of her eye. "I trust him, Francis."

Francis looked out his daughter as well, glad that she seemed to have a little peace while she was sleeping. "Alright, alright." He cocked his head to the side. "I never did get to ask you. How does it feel being married to the Vice President of the United States?"

"Ask me that question when there aren't twenty men downstairs turning our house into a bunker." Claire grinned before walking out to their bedroom and squatting down by her daughter. "James, honey, we're leaving."

James' eyes fluttered open, squinting when the bathroom light shined into them. Rubbing them quickly, she looked back to her mother. "What time is it?"

"Almost six." Claire said glancing at the alarm clock on her nightstand. "We have to go back to the White House to get some things straightened out." She kissed her head, pushing back her brown hair. "I'll call you around lunch time. We'll be home as soon as we can."

James yawned as she half hugged her mother. "Okay." She smiled seeing Francis walk out from the bathroom. "Hey, Daddy."

"Hey, darlin'," Francis said with a smile and kiss to her cheek. "I'm glad I got to see you before I leave."

"At least when you make President, you'll be in the same building." James sighed as she hugged him.

Francis grinned. "That's my girl." He pulled the covers back up to her shoulders. "Get some more sleep. I'll talk to you later. Hopefully, I will be back with your mother in time for dinner tonight."

James laid back down in the bed, snuggling into the mattress. "Take your time. I have no other place to be." She closed her eyes when Francis covered them with his hand. "Bye, Dad."

"Bye, James." Francis whispered before taking Claire's hand and walking out of the room, making their way down to the foyer where Meechum and their driver were waiting patiently. "I think we are ready to go."

"I'll start the car, sir." The driver said before going out the front door.

Claire smiled seeing Meechum look up the stairs, but being patient enough to let them leave before rushing to their daughter's side. "I hope that you enjoyed your night off."

Meechum smiled nervously at her. "It was nice to be home, but I'm happy to be back to work, Ma'am."

"She's sleeping in our room, Edward." Francis stated as he held up Claire's jacket, letting her slip her arms into the sleeves before pulling it up onto her shoulders. "Don't let her sleep past eight."

"Yes, Mr. Vice President." Meechum nodded, standing up straighter when Francis directed the words to him. "Your daughter is in good hands, sir."

Francis smiled seeing Claire try to hide her smirk. "So, I've been told." He clapped the young man's shoulder. "We're a phone call away if you need us." He turned back to the front door and opened it, letting Claire out first with the secret service members outside. "I'm sure she'd be happy to see you, Meechum." He winked once before leaving the brownstone, closing the front door behind him.

* * *

James limped out of her parents' room, wearing her tank top and shorts from the night before, when she saw Meechum standing beside the doorway. "Do you ever wear anything other than suits?"

"Good morning to you too." Meechum smiled with his hands crossed in front of him. "I happen to be working."

James rolled her eyes as she walked into her room, Meechum following after her. "Is there anything I should be prepared for today?"

Meechum shook his head. "Just your workout. A classmate stopped by to drop off the homework you've missed so far." He stepped inside her bedroom with her, glancing down at the floor when she started changing. "I checked it over. It doesn't look like too much. A lot of your teachers seem to miss you."

"Or they are sucking up now that they know my father is the Vice President." James smirked before pulling on a t-shirt. She chuckled softly when she noticed the blush creeping up his neck. "Do you have another set of clothes?"

Meechum looked up, shaking his head. "No, why?"

"I was thinking you could work out with me today." James said putting her hands on her hips. "It'd be better than you just standing in the corner while I'm working my ass off." She walked over to her closet and pulled out a garbage bag, ripping it open to reveal a pile of men's clothes. "Take your pick from these."

"Why do you have this?" Meechum asked picking up a few t-shirts.

James shrugged. "I like wearing these shirts to bed sometimes. The sweatpants are my ex-boyfriend's." She blushed when Meechum smirked at her. "He was a tall guy. They'll fit."

Meechum shook his head once. "Alright, I will go change then." He picked up the clean bandages from her dresser, holding them out to her. "You need to wear one of these though. No pushing it today."

James sat down on her bed, lifting up her leg to slip the bandage underneath. "We'll see how much I can take today. No pain, no gain, right?" She froze when Meechum leaned down in front of her, placing his hands on either side of her against the mattress. She had to lean back to avoid his face colliding with hers. "What?"

"I will carry you out of the basement myself if I have to keep you from pushing yourself today." Meechum said in a hushed tone. "Do not doubt that, Ms. Underwood."

"I don't." James breathed before Meechum stood up, walking to the bathroom off of her room to change. She grinned seeing the door swing back out slightly, allowing her to see glimpses of his form as he changed into the clothes from her closet.

* * *

Francis sighed leaning back in his chair. Claire grinned at him, sitting on the edge of his desk. "You look awfully cheerful for a day of filled with kisses to Garret's bum."

"I am. We are taking down his protection one layer at a time." Claire smiled letting her leg sway as it dangled. "I know that you like to cut right into the core, but it's nice taking it a layer at a time. We know how to make our walls concrete so no one can do the same to us." She played with the end of his tie, letting the material run against her fingers. "It's fun doing this as a team."

"We're always a team." Francis said looking at her with half lidded eyes. "I'm ready to go home."

Claire hopped off of his desk, walking over to the door to his office and closing it. "I want to do something first."

Francis frowned when he saw her fingers twist the metal lock. "What would that be?"

"We've broken in every one of your offices, except for this one." Claire nearly purred as she walked back to his desk, leaning over the front of it with her palms pressed flat against the dark wood. "I want to be sure that this office is everything you hoped for."

"You're right," Francis said as he stood, making his way around the desk. He pressed his hips against Claire's when she turned to face him. Wrapping his arms around her waist. "I don't even think we've had the time since I was sworn in."

Claire shook her head. "Well, we have time, Mr. Vice President." She grinned when he nearly growled hearing the words come from her lips. "Your move."

Francis reached up, slowly sliding the zipper to her dress down under he could feel her skin against his fingertips. "You know just what to say, Mrs. Vice President."

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	11. Chapter 11

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"I told you to take it easy." Meechum sighed as he set James down on her feet after climbing the two sets of stairs.

James pushed away from him. "I told you I was fine. Look! I can walk; I can stand. I'm perfectly fine." She turned towards her room when Meechum grabbed her arm and kicked her leg out from under her. She landed on her back, hard. "What the hell?"

Meechum lifted her back up onto her feet. "Yeah, you're doing perfectly fine." He pointed towards her room. "Go shower. Change your bandage. I'll meet you downstairs."

"Don't you want to shower?" James asked stopping in the doorway of her bedroom.

"I will later tonight when you go to bed." Meechum said, going to back to standing guard beside her door.

James grabbed his arm and pulled him inside of her room. "No, that's ridiculous. You can shower too. I doubt there's going to be a mass invasion while you take a ten minute shower."

Meechum pushed his hands against the doorway, grounding himself from going further. "A lot can happen in ten minutes."

"I'm well aware." James grunted before shoving her body against his back. They both tumbled inside, stumbling from the sudden force. "There are six of your buddies outside guarding the place. If a threat gets passed them, I'm almost positive we would be doomed as well." She rolled her eyes when his still had hesitation. "You can't watch me all the time."

"I wish I could. I would feel much better." Meechum said picking up his dress shirt from the chair in the corner. "You're the first person I've had to protect that I want to protect all the time. Last night, I slept for maybe two hours because I kept wondering if you were actually being protected. Yes, I know that's paranoid, because you do have a whole army here to protect you. But, none of these guys are me. They may have taken the same oath and working the same job, but, at the end of the day, I don't know if they will do something that could prevent you from being hurt."

James crossed her arms over her chest. "Why are you worrying so much? I'm safe."

Meechum grabbed her arms. "Because, I care." He looked down into her eyes, his piercing right through her. "I care about you. I want you to be safe. My mind knows you are, but... there's another part of me that worries. If something were to happen to you when I'm gone, I couldn't forgive myself."

"You can't protect me from everything." James breathed. She sucked in a breath when he let go of her arms. "Why do I feel like there's something you're not telling me?"

Meechum peeled off his sweaty t-shirt, tossing it into the dirty clothes bin that carried James' clothes. "Because, there is. I'm not even allowed to think about it, let alone tell you."

"Think about what?" James asked grabbing onto his hand.

"I can't tell you." Meechum stated. "It's against protocol."

James huffed. "Fuck protocol. I'm recovering from a stab wound caused by the President's son, and now I'm planning my revenge on him. Do you really think I care about what your book says about protocol?"

"You won't like what I tell you anyway." Meechum explained. He frowned when he reached for his slacks from her bed, but she tossed them to the floor on the other side, out of his reach. "That wasn't nice."

"Tell me," James said. "Tell me, Edward."

Meechum's lips pressed together in a fine line, the nerves in his temples showing through. "When I said I care about you,... it's not like the feelings you have towards someone you're protecting. It's feelings that your father probably had towards your mother when they were first going out. I want to protect you, not because it's my job or because I'm getting paid for it. I want to protect you, because I want you safe... with me."

James let her jaw drop slightly, her arms going slack at her sides. "Those kinds of feelings?"

"Yes." Meechum sighed before hurrying around the bed to grab his pants. He stood back up, his clothes held against his chest as if they would protect him. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to leave with some pride-"

His sentence was cut short when James stepped up to him and kissed him. It wasn't a short kiss, but it wasn't one that would be the start to something more either. It was one of those kisses that makes your mind go blank, and you don't really know what to do next. When her lips left his, he looked down at her to find her blue eyes looking up at him underneath her eyelashes. "If you think I didn't want to hear that, you're nuts." She breathed.

Meechum dropped his clothes back to the floor, pulling her closer by the base of her spine. His other hand ran up her neck, tangling in her hair as he kissed her again. She moaned into his mouth before he pulled away, pressing his face into her neck. "Let's slow this down." He felt her nod, her jaw grazing against his own. Standing up straight, he pointed towards her bathroom. "Go shower. I will after you're done."

"Alright." James nodded before picking up a pair of clean clothes and disappearing into the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar like he had down when changing that morning.

* * *

Francis hummed contently as he stroked Claire's back, a habit he had grown fond of. She sat on his lap, her bare form curled against his after thoroughly draining each other to exhaustion on the office floor. He grunted when he felt her insides spasm again, tightening briefly on his member that was still inside her. "Do you remember the first time we did this?" He asked, his southern drawl deeper than usual.

Claire smiled. "Which first time? The first time we fucked, made love, broke in your office-"

"Just sex in general. Do you remember our first time?" Francis asked leaning his head against hers.

"How could I forget?" Claire asked pulling back to look at his face. "It was the only night I had actually seen you nervous."

Francis rolled his eyes. "I wasn't nervous."

Claire chuckled. "You were shaking like a leave until I kissed you."

"I guess we remember the night differently." Francis smiled, letting out a half laugh, half grunt when she thrust her body down onto him hard. "Alright, I was nervous. You were the prettiest girl, and I already knew we would spend our lives together."

Claire grinned, slightly out of breath as she continued to move her hips against his, let her lips skim over his. "So, why were you nervous?"

Francis took her hips into his hands, lowering her onto her back as he climbed over her. "I was worried that you would figure out that you were too good for me." He kissed down her neck. "You still are."

"We're a team now." Claire breathed before Francis intertwined their fingers together. He leaned down and claimed her lips before slamming his hips into hers, driving himself as deep as he could go.

* * *

Francis and Claire nearly dropped everything the second they were through their front door. Claire began rubbing her feet, grateful to have a break from the killer heels she had collected in her wardrobe. "I'll put on a kettle and start up something for dinner. Why don't you check on our girl?" Francis suggested as he took off his jacket.

"Good idea." Claire nodded before taking hold of the banister. "I better not catch you smoking without me either."

"Never." Francis smiled, the smile he reserved for every person he was lying too. He saw her roll her eyes before climbing the stairs, her hips swaying from side to side. "Man, I love that woman." He whispered to himself before heading towards the kitchen.

Claire knocked on her daughter's door twice before pushing it open. She smiled seeing her daughter laugh with Meechum, both of them laying on her bed with a laptop between them. "Well, I guess I don't have to worry about you being bored around here."

James stood up and hugged her mother. "It was actually quite an interesting day." She sighed contently when Claire kissed her head. "Is Daddy home too?"

"Yes, he's down in the kitchen." Claire nodded before her daughter hurried towards the stairs. Meechum stood from the bed and moved to follow her, but Claire held up her hand. "I want to ask you a few things before you go."

Meechum took a step back and straightened himself out. "Alright."

Claire glanced back towards the stairs. "I want you to answer me honestly. I won't fire you for anything you say here." She straightened out her blazer jacket before lacing her fingers together. "Do you have genuine feelings for my daughter?"

"Yes, Ma'am." Meechum said after a beat.

Claire nodded. "Okay." She smiled briefly before stepping closer to him, nearly chest to chest. "Honestly, my daughter has a mind of her own, and she isn't going to listen to Francis or I when it comes to what she wants. Just know that she is going through a lot right now, and she needs support more than ever. If I even think that you are going to make things more difficult for her, I will not hesitate to send you back to the White House. If you hurt my daughter in any way, I will end you." She searched his eyes for any hint of betrayal or doubt. "Do we have an understanding?"

Meechum didn't even blink before he nodded. "Yes, Mrs. Underwood."

"Good," Claire smiled. "Just be careful, especially in public and around Francis."

"Understood." Meechum said.

Claire unbuttoned her blazer, shedding the jacket as she stepped out of the path to the doorway. "You can go now."

Meechum nodded. "Thank you, Ma'am."

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	12. Chapter 12

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Francis stepped inside of his office, pulling Claire inside with him. She chuckled when he pushed her against the wall, his body soon melding to hers. She slid her hands between them and reached for his belt buckle when they both heard a familiar voice. "Ew!"

The two turned to see their daughter sitting in Francis' chair, her eyes covered by her hand. Meechum stood behind her, off to the side, trying to conceal the smirk on his face. "What are you doing here?"

"Apparently, looking for something else to traumatize me." James said before standing up from her father's chair.

Claire smiled and walked over to her daughter. "You do realize that's how you came into this world."

"Okay, this is not what I came here for." James stated before sitting down on the desk, looking to her father. "I need a favor."

Francis shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked around to sit at his desk. "What favor?"

James bit her lip, glancing at the photo that had traveled from desk to desk for as long as she could remember. "I need the photo, Dad."

"What photo?" Francis asked, his arm already outstretched towards the frame.

James moved to grab the photo, but Francis snatched it and held it to his chest. "Dad, I need that."

"Tell me what you want it for and I'll determine whether or not you need it." Francis bargained. He glanced down at the photo. It was taken when he on his own campaign trail with Claire at his side. It was the first time they had brought James with them, only six months old. The photo was a close up from someone who was watching them up on stage close to the front. Francis was waving to the crowd, his other arm holding up his daughter, her brown curls matching his at the time. Claire stood beside him, a hand placed on James' stomach. The moment the picture was taken, James had lifted up her arm and waved to the crowd.

He looked back up to her daughter, her blue eyes still matching her mother's. "Why do you need this picture?"

James pushed her hair behind her ear. "Everyone in the White House and in Congress knows that you would never lose or misplace that picture. Daddy, I need it for my plan to work." She wrapped her fingers around the frame. "I can make a copy of it."

"What are you going to do to it?" Francis asked letting her take the picture from him gently.

"I need to show a history of Gordon's relationship with me." James stated as she picked up a Sharpie from his desk.

Francis pressed his fingers to his lips. "You want to show obsession."

James shrugged. "Essentially, yes." She looked down at the photo. "I know you love this photo, Daddy. If you don't want-"

"Do it." Francis interrupted. He looked at the empty space on his desk. "I have another copy of the photo back at the house. Once everything is handled and taken care of, I'll just bring that photo in. I needed a new frame anyway."

"Thank you, Daddy." James smiled before kissing his cheek.

Claire grinned at her husband as James and Meechum walked towards the door, Meechum hiding the picture underneath his jacket. She was welcomed with open arms as she sat down on his lap. "Is there anything else we can help you with?"

"Nope, just please use protection." James said before opening the door. "Oh, is Doug in his office?"

"He should be." Francis nodded once. Once the door closed, he looked up at Claire. "When was the last time we used protection?"

Claire shook her head with a chuckle. "Enough of that. We need to start planning for Garrett. Gordon will be a blow, but we'll need something on Garrett too." She leaned her head against his, looking at the desk with him. "Your desk looks weird without the picture."

Francis hummed in agreement. "You've been getting close to Garrett's wife. Is there anything there we could start pulling strings for?"

"Well," Claire leaned forward, grabbing a packet of papers that were sitting on his desk. She started flipping through them. "They act like roommates instead of spouses."

"Garrett did say that he is calmer in the Oval than in the residence." Francis stated recalling the conversation he had with the President. "That would be a blow to the entire family. Not terms for impeachment, but..."

"It's enough to have him focusing on his family more than his job." Claire said. "Creating a crooked President puts you in the cross hairs now."

Francis pursed his lips together for a moment. "Could we tie him to Gordon?"

Claire closed her eyes. "It makes us look weak, but nobody would ever say it out loud once they find out what he did to James." She leaned back against his chest. "We need to figure out what she's planning."

* * *

"Are you kidding me?" Doug asked locking his office door.

James crossed her arms over her chest. "No, I'm not. I need you to do this for me, Doug."

"You are asking me to sneak into the First Son's bedroom." Doug stated, hushing his voice to avoid people coming to check on them. He walked around his desk. "If I'm caught, what do you expect me to say for an explanation?"

"You are a better liar than I am. I'm sure you'll think of something." James said sitting on the edge of his desk. "Besides, this plan helps Daddy reach the Oval. I know you want that just as much as he does. All you have to do is hide this in his room."

Doug pressed his fist against his mouth, staring at the picture frame that was in her hands. "When are you going to blow this up?"

James set the frame down on his desk. "In a few days. Daddy will bring it up to his secretary tomorrow." She stood up and headed back towards his office door. "You know this is the right thing to do."

"Of course, I do. I just don't want to lose my job trying to get a promotion." Doug stated.

James put her hand on the doorknob, turning her full attention back to him. "If you're caught, you can say you're having suspicions about Gordon. It may seem like a far fetched idea to the public, but, once the story comes out, you'd be hired back in a heartbeat."

Doug smiled. "You've been watching your parents too much."

"I could say the same thing about you." James smirked before opening the door and walking out. Once Meechum was walking next to her, his strides in sync with hers, she looked up at him. "Make sure you don't touch it."

* * *

Francis walked into the Oval office, happy to see that Cathy Durant was already in the room talking to Garrett. "You called, Mr. President."

"Yes, I wanted to follow up and see how things were coming along with China. But, Cathy seemed to take care of things." Garrett smiled gesturing to the Secretary of State.

Francis nodded as he put a reassuring hand on Kathy's back. "Yes, we are very lucky to have her on our team, sir. I did contact a few people as well, and I informed Cathy about what I found. So, I'm sure she caught you up on all the information."

Garrett clapped his hands. "Then, it sounds like we are ready for our meet with the prime minister tomorrow. Thank you, Cathy. Frank, can I talk to you for a moment?"

"Yes, sir." Francis said before waiting until Kathy walked out of the room. He looked back to Garrett, watching as he made his way to the two couches that faced each other in the middle of the room. "What is it, sir?"

"Oh, you can call me Garrett when it's just the two of us here." Garrett smiled before sitting down. "Join me."

Francis bit back his tongue as he sat down, unbuttoning the front of his jacket. "What's wrong, Garrett?"

Garrett held up his hands. "Nothing. Nothing is wrong. I just wanted to check in and see how things were going with James. I know that Gordon has been worried sick about her."

"Well, that's very kind of him." Francis half mumbled. "She is still recovering. She has a long road ahead of her."

"Do the cops have any new leads as to who attacked her?" Garrett asked.

Francis pressed his fingers to his temple, resting his elbow into the cushions of the couch. "No. That's what worries me." He leaned forward. "It isn't good for anyone involved if this isn't resolved. My daughter nearly had a heart attack while she was here and Gordon was showing us those knives."

Garrett's eyes widened. "Oh my God! I didn't even think about that. I'm so sorry, Frank."

"It's alright." Francis said holding up his hands. "It wasn't like he was holding the knife that she was attacked with. She's just trying to manage right now. Whoever did this nearly cut her to the bone. Physical therapy has been a challenge for her."

"If there is anything I can do, Francis, just let me know. Even if you need to take her to an appointment for a few hours, don't be afraid to come talk to me about it. I'm sure she needs someone around who she feels safe with." Garrett said, pouring out his heart right on the table.

"Thank you, Garrett." Francis nodded.

Garrett leaned back against the couch. "Maybe Gordon could stop by one day after school and spend some time with her. I know he misses her. He won't stop asking about her."

Francis lost all sense of courtesy when the idea was thrust into his mind. "I'm sorry, Garrett. But, I don't think that's a good idea."

"Maybe another time then." Garrett said before his phone rang. "Excuse me."

Francis stood with Garrett. "I actually need to hurry home."

Garrett smiled. "Go. I'll talk to you more tomorrow."

Francis turned and walked out of the office, seeing Cathy sitting in one of the chairs outside. When she saw Francis walk out, she started walking with him. "I'm glad I caught you, Frank."

"What is it, Cathy?" Francis asked stopping in the hallway.

"I just wanted to ask you about James. I heard about the attack." Cathy said, her arms slightly outstretched as if to say 'things like this happen'. "How is she doing?"

Francis put his hands on Cathy's shoulders gently, smiling kindly. "She is pushing through. It's about all she can do at this point. I know she'll be happy to know that you were asking about her."

Cathy smiled. "When I left the office, I figured the President would be asking about her. His son has been in and out of his office all day asking about her."

"Yeah, I'm not really a fan of his right now." Francis sighed, scratching his jaw. "James was out on a date with him the night of the attack. He let her walk home twenty blocks instead of drive her home."

Cathy's jaw dropped. "She was attacked on the street."

Francis shrugged. "James can't remember. She lost so much blood getting home that she has no recollection of what happened that night. She just remembers the knife." He shook his head. "Then, Gordon pulls out one of his knives from his collection after I'm sworn in. My daughter nearly passed out in the Oval office. She told me that knife looked exactly like the one she was attacked with."

"You don't think Gordon did this, do you?" Cathy asked glancing up and down the hallways.

"No." Francis frowned. "Of course not, but he wasn't exactly a hero that night either. Garrett just asked me if he could come visit James after school. His presence is the last thing she needs right now."

Cathy nodded. "With his reputation, I think you're right." She glanced down at her watch. "I'm sorry to hurry off, but I have a meeting in fifteen minutes. If you need anything, just let me know. James has my number."

Francis leaned in and hugged her. "Thank you, Cathy." He watched as she walked away before pulling out his phone. "Bring the car around front."

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	13. Chapter 13

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Francis walked into the basement to find Meechum standing in front of James. She was hanging from one of the water pipes that had never been covered with sheet rock. She pulled herself up, the muscles in her stomach clenching as she lifted up her good leg slightly. Meechum grabbed her hips. "You need to stop. James, you're pushing yourself too hard."

"Let go. I'm going to finish this." James said pulling herself up again.

Francis knocked twice on the stairs, gaining the two's attention. "If you don't mind, I'll take it from here, Meechum."

Meechum looked up at James, sighing when she continued to pull herself up. "I'll be upstairs."

Once the basement door had closed, Francis took Meechum's place in front of his daughter. "How long have you been doing this?"

"Not long enough." James said with a breath before grunting as she let herself hang from the pipe. "He's overprotective. Probably what I need."

"You seem awfully close to him," Francis said. "Anything going on I should know about?"

James shook her head as she pulled herself up again. "He's part of the plan. I'm going to enjoy as much of it as I can."

"You're too much like your mother and I." Francis smiled before tapping her bandage, seeing no signs of discomfort on his daughter's face. "Better." He praised before grabbing her waist, pulling her down from the pipe. "I've got something else for you."

James put her hands on her hips, licking her lips as sweat dripped down the sides of her neck. "What?" She watched as her father opened up a closet door, pulling out the rowing machine that Claire had bought not long ago. "I thought Mom bought that for you."

Francis laid the machine down, unstrapping the handles and hooking them to the sides. "I've used it. I just put it away once I'm done." He smirked before standing in front of it, looking at his daughter expectantly. "Ready?"

James grinned before sitting down. Readjusting the fingerless gloves on her hands, she grabbed the handles. They pulled her towards Francis until her legs were curled against the push off. "This thing feels ancient."

"Well, the joke is on you because this machine was made the year you were born." Francis grinned before squatting in front of her. He tapped the pole at the end twice before James pushed off and began pulling the rope back to her, repeating the process over and over again.

* * *

Claire sat on her bed, looking through her computer when Francis slid in next to her. "What are you doing?"

"Reading past articles on Gordon Walker." Claire stated before turning the computer to let him see. The headline read 'First Son may become First Playboy'. "James is a smart girl. I'm not doubting her plans, but it would be nice to know what they are."

Francis clicked on another article that pictured Gordon. "Whatever her plans are, they involve Meechum. I got that much out of her tonight." He started scrolling through the article. "Whatever she is planning, he won't even have a chance to beg for mercy."

Claire stroked his hair, watching as his jaw clenched as he read the article. She turned the computer away. "You seem more aggravated than usual. Did something happen today?"

"Garrett told me that Gordon has been asking about James. Apparently, he brought up the idea of coming to see her after school to spend time with her." Francis sighed closing the laptop and leaning his head on her shoulder. "I wanted to make him eat his own fucking knife."

Claire shivered. "Just the thought-"

"Exactly." Francis agreed before closing his eyes, relaxing against his wife's body. "I can't wait to take away the power from the son of a bitch."

"Which one?" Claire asked pressing her lips against the crown of his head.

Francis shrugged. "Name one." Claire chuckled, letting her head drop back against the headboard. "I say we ask her what she plans on doing tomorrow. If Meechum is involved, she may want him around to hear."

Claire set her laptop aside. "He may want to be there even if he's not involved." She closed her eyes. "He'll want to protect her as best he can."

"Well, that's our job." Francis said standing up and peeling off his shirt.

"Francis, he's here to protect her." Claire said standing up as well and unzipping her dress. She kicked her heels aside, reaching for the silk pajamas underneath her pillow. "He's doing something that we can't do every single minute of the day."

Francis walked around the bed and slid his hands underneath her dress, helping it pool to the floor at her feet. "There are four other people here to protect her."

Claire smirked, leaning back against his chest. "Yes, but if he wasn't here, you would've made those two eat their knife today." She kissed his cheek. "You would do anything for her."

"I would," Francis said. "The question is: what can I do for you?"

* * *

James climbed into her bed next to Meechum, carefully pulling off her bandage. "Are you still mad?"

Meechum closed the magazine and let it rest against his stomach. "I just wish that you wouldn't work yourself so hard. You don't have to become Wonder Woman in a matter of days."

"Pushing myself makes me feel like I have control." James sighed leaning against her headboard. She smiled when he started tracing around her healing stitches. "That's just my family. We push ourselves to the breaking point, and then we fix our breaking point." Leaning her head against his, she closed her eyes. "I think you'll be good for me."

Meechum looked up at her. "I'm not going to push you."

"I know. That's what I'm talking about," James said. "You are going to give me a break when I won't take one for myself. I know you won't have the same expectations that my parents have. Although I love competing to accomplish the goals they set for me, I'm glad that you won't expect me to do the same."

"I will expect things, like honesty for one." Meechum stated. "But, I won't expect you to become President just to make me happy."

James chuckled. "That's one of their goals." She kissed his temple. "If I start injuring myself, then you can step in and stop me."

Meechum set aside the magazine from his stomach. "What if I want to pull you out of this plan you have for Gordon Walker?" He saw her recoil. "This is dangerous, James. Dangerous to the point where I can't fully protect you."

James hugged her pillow to her chest. "That's the point. I need to do this for me, to prove to him that I can take care of myself and to tell him he won't ever do this to somebody else." She felt Meechum sneak his hand under hers to hold her hand. "He tried to rape me, Edward. I can't let him keep going."

"I know." Meechum breathed before pulling her closer to him. He pulled away the pillow she was holding before laying his head on her stomach. "How soon?"

James brushed back some of his hair. "Whenever you're ready."

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	14. Chapter 14

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James smiled as she made it to the bottom of the stairs without stopping to give her leg a break. Walking through the living and dining rooms, she stopped in her tracks when she found Francis and Claire standing in front of Meechum, his head turned down as if he was being punished. "What's going on?"

"We were just asking Meechum what you were planning for Gordon Walker." Francis stated. He pulled out the barstool next to Meechum. "Why don't you join us?"

"He only knows part of the plan," James said, not moving from the doorway.

Francis pointed back to the barstool. James glanced at her mother, seeing that she was siding with Francis on this one, before sitting on the barstool. "Now, what exactly do you have planned? I want to hear it now, and I want to hear the truth. Do you hear me?"

"Yes." James breathed.

Francis raised his voice. "Do you hear me?"

James boomed in return. "Yes!"

"Francis," Claire warned when he clenched his jaw. She laid her hand on his arm, reminding him to stay calm. "James, tell us what is going on and what we should be preparing for. Keeping your father and I in the dark is only going to make things harder on you."

James ran a hand through her hair. "You won't like my plan." She licked her bottom lip, playing with the place mat that was on the counter. "But, you can't stop me."

"I don't intend to." Claire reminded her daughter. "We don't."

"Don't speak for me." Francis sniped.

James crossed her arms over her chest. "Then, I'll tell Mom... and only Mom." She watched as Francis white knuckled the edge of the counter. "Gordon Walker branded me, Daddy. I want him handled my way. You need to promise me that you won't stop me." She reached out and pried his hand off the counter, gripping it with her own. "Promise me."

Francis glanced down at the healing gash in her leg, now looking less horrifying than it did when she laid in the hospital bed. He looked back up to her face. "Is he going to get the chance to hurt you again?"

"I won't let him." James said determined.

Francis sighed before wrapping his arms around his daughter, cupping the back of her head. "Then, I promise, darlin'. But, I need to hear everything right now."

"Okay," James whispered before he pulled back. She let go of his hand as she began. "So, this is what I have so far, and this will get us into the White House..."

* * *

Doug cracked open the door to Francis' office wide enough to step halfway inside. "Sir, Cathy is here."

Francis stood from his chair. "Send her in." He picked up his waste basket and started rifling through the plastic bin. When Cathy walked in, he looked up, somewhat distressed. "Cathy, thank you for coming on such short notice."

"It was no trouble. I was actually in the building already." Cathy smiled walking towards his desk. She frowned slightly when she noticed his current activity. "Lose something?"

Francis put the waste basket back underneath his desk. "Yes, I came into my office this morning, and one of my pictures from my desk was missing." He did a quick glance around his office. "I just can't find it."

"Which picture is it?" Cathy asked looking at the few frames he still had around the room.

"It's from a long time ago. James was only a baby-" Francis began, but was cut off by Cathy's next words.

"The campaign rally photo." Cathy nodded now noticing the empty space where she knew that photo never moved from. "I know it well."

Francis sighed. "I just don't understand how I misplaced it. I've had it in the same spot on my desk for over a decade and now it has vanished." He opened up the drawers to his desk, shuffling through them uselessly.

Cathy smiled sympathetically. "I remember seeing it when I first met you. You were smitten with your little girl."

"You speak as if she's dead." Francis stated not bothering to look up at her.

"Of course, she's not." Cathy stepped back.

Francis shook his head, standing up once he closed all the drawers. "I'm sorry. I'm just a little shaken up right now. First the attack and now this. I feel like somebody in this office has it in for me." He picked up a file from his desk and handed it to Cathy. "Here are the talking points we discussed earlier. When is your meeting with the Russian President?"

Cathy took the file and added it to the stack of papers she was already holding. "Tomorrow afternoon. He should arrive in DC in the morning." She took in Francis' slight look of panic, or what she mistook as panic. "I'll keep an eye peeled for that picture, Frank. If we find the picture, hopefully we'll find who did this to her."

"This is the first time in my whole career where I felt I didn't have control over the situation. I honestly don't know what to do." Francis said collapsing into his chair. "What would you do in my position?"

Cathy sat down in the chair across from his desk, setting her papers aside. "I would probably be doing the same thing as you, Frank. Panicking." She placed both her hands on the desk gently. "I wouldn't be able to come into the office without having a security system set in place."

"The house was just set up with the latest protection. We even hired a secret service member to personally guard her at all times. I don't think he's left the house in a week." Francis explained, resting his chin on his fist. "I know she's safe, but-"

"You worry." Cathy nodded. "We all do as parents, Frank."

"Thank you, Cathy." Francis nodded before glancing at his watch. "I'm sorry. I'm just monopolizing your time this week, aren't I?"

Cathy smiled. "Don't you worry about me, Frank. You already have enough on your plate." She stood from the chair, grabbing her papers before heading to the door. "I'll see you at the meeting tomorrow."

* * *

"I don't get it. Why would he do that?" James asked as she looked at the last page of _The Great Gatsby_. "He loved her so much, and she betrayed him. Why did he make himself so vulnerable?"

Meechum smiled as he held the book, closing it before tossing it onto the coffee table. He wrapped his arms tighter around James sitting in between his legs. "She was the love of his life. He would've done anything to make her his own, even if it meant putting his neck out on the line."

James leaned back against his chest. "Why do you do it?" She felt his lips against her temple. "Why do you risk your life to protect me? You just met me a few weeks ago."

"Because, I would rather die than see you get hurt." Meechum whispered into her ear before rubbing his thumb over her stitches. "I took this job, because I knew that there were people out there in danger, and all they ever have done is fight for people who can't fight for themselves. I can protect those people by becoming their shield." He linked his other hand with hers, letting their fingers tangle together. "I know you'll do great things someday. You already have the desire to fight for others. I don't want the world to miss out on your passion just because nobody was there to protect you."

"What if I don't want you to?" James asked looking up at him, her head resting on his shoulder. "I get you want to protect me, but I don't want you to die for it. I still want you here."

Meechum kissed her forehead. "I'll try my hardest not to."

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	15. Chapter 15

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James pressed her phone against her ear. "Doug, you are a genius."

"Guilty as charged." Doug grinned as he walked back into his office. He sat down at his desk, looking through his iPad. "What's your next move?"

"Homework. I just need someone to bring it to me." James hinted. She tapped her fingers. "I was thinking a certain Secretary of State."

Doug's eyes widened. "You want Cathy to come by the house. How do you suppose to pull that off?"

James lifted up her leg, letting it rest on the coffee table in the living room. She glanced towards the kitchen, seeing that Meechum was still busy making his own breakfast. "Dad said that she had been asking about me. Are you meeting with her at all today?"

"We're meeting her and the President this afternoon." Doug said maneuvering the phone so he could search through his emails. "What are you planning?"

James smiled standing up. "I need someone other than the detail to see that someone crazy is coming after me." She picked up her own iPad. "I'll call her, invite her over. You could bring my things to the meeting and say that they just came."

"I always forget. What is Cathy to you?" Doug asked putting his papers for the President on top of James' homework.

"The closest thing I'll ever have to an aunt, and even that is far fetched." James sighed walking into the kitchen and helping Meechum. "But, she likes having someone she can talk to, and the relationship has been rewarding for me." She looked up at the calendar, pausing when she saw the red writing with a birthday cake drawn at the bottom. "Doug, can you patch me through to Daddy?"

Doug leaned forward. "What's going on?"

James smiled. "I have an idea, and I may just be more useful than that tool that you work with."

"Anybody would be better than Seth." Doug breathed glancing back towards his door. He stood up, walking to Francis' office. "Are you going to tell me exactly what will happen when this is all said and done? Or, do I have to be surprised when the news cast breaks across the country?"

James chuckled. "If you play your cards right, you could come with Cathy. I can tell you all about it over dinner."

Doug looked at his watch as he stepped inside Francis' office, hurrying up to the desk when Francis looked up. "How late do you think that will be?"

"Late enough for you to stay in the guest bedroom." James stated before popping a grape into her mouth. "Bye Doug."

* * *

"I agree with Frank on this," Garrett said. "Let's go along with this until they bring up the oil drilling. We can use that to negotiate." He closed the folder in front of him, placing his palm on the leather. "I believe that is all."

Francis stood and buttoned up his jacket as Doug stood taking notes for Francis, holding the giant pile of books and folders that were delivered for James that morning. "Thank you, Mr. President."

Garrett gestured towards Doug. "You seem to have a lot on your plate, Frank."

"Oh," Francis said glancing Doug's way, "that's homework for James. One of her friends brought it by this morning for me to take home to her. I don't know how that girl keeps up with her studies."

Cathy stepped forward. "Well, I could take it. James called me earlier. I was just about to head over to visit with her." She put a hand on Francis' shoulder. "She's thinking about coming to work for me in the State Department."

"She is now, is she?" Francis grinned. "I think she might've mentioned something about job hunting. I told her just to focus on healing. But if she's going to work for you, I know she'll be well taken care of."

"So soon into politics." Garrett said, standing up out of his chair. "She sounds just like you."

Francis nodded with a slight chuckle. "Well, I can't blame her for that. Besides, I like the ambition she has. Might make a good President someday." He looked to Doug. "Why don't you go with Cathy, Doug? Take James the homework and check in on the new guy."

"Will do, sir." Doug nodded before looking to Cathy. "I can call for a car now, Madam Secretary."

"Nonsense. My car is right downstairs. You can ride with me." Cathy smiled before turning to Francis. "If she wants a job-"

Francis interrupted her. "Make her work for it."

Cathy chuckled as she walked after Doug. "Of course, you wouldn't let your daughter make her way into a job just because of connections."

"She won't take pride in that, Cathy. You know my daughter as well as I do." Francis grinned. "And, you know that she will not take a hand out, even from Claire or I." He watched as the two walked out before heading towards the door himself.

Garrett cleared his throat. "I'm assuming that James is feeling better."

Francis stopped in the doorway, turning back to the President. "Yes, she is."

"Gordon is still asking about her." Garrett nodded. "He's been wanting to go see her for a while now."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," Francis said. "We still haven't found the attacker. The only reason Cathy is allowed on the block is because she's James' Godmother." He held up his hand. "I know that Gordon wants to see her, but I just don't think now is the right time for that."

Garrett sidestepped the desk, sitting on the edge of it. "It almost sounds like you don't want my boy around her, Frank."

Francis paused. "May I be honest with you, Garrett?"

"Always," Garrett replied.

Francis walked back into the office, staying closer to the couches than to Garrett. "Your son made my daughter walk home twenty blocks after their date, the night she was attacked. If he had driven her home, none of this would've happened. So, I don't feel comfortable having your son near my daughter." He clasped his hands together in front of him. "In all honesty, James is still a little shaken up about the whole ordeal, and I think having Gordon there would just make her relive the night. I already had to watch her go through the trauma. I watched her collapse in our foyer after bleeding out for God knows how long. I carried her into the hospital when Claire and I couldn't get her to wake back up. My daughter needed my blood in order to survive." He smoothed out his tie, reminding himself to calm his breathing. "I'm not willing to make her go through it again."

"I had no idea." Garrett sighed. He waved his hand to dismiss Francis. "I won't bring it up again. I will talk to Gordon." He gave him a small smile. "Thanks for being honest with me, Frank. When you're the President, some people are afraid to tell you the truth."

"When it comes to you, I have never thought of it that way." Francis smirked before walking out of the office.

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	16. Chapter 16

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Meechum opened the front door and stepped aside as Cathy and Doug walked in. James sat on the couch with her leg bandaged and elevated on the coffee table, writing in a notebook from the homework she had the day before. "Hey, thanks for coming."

"It was no problem, sugar." Cathy cooed as she walked around and sat down next to James, stroking her hair that was pulled back into a ponytail. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm ready to be out of this house." James sighed as she turned towards Cathy, cringing slightly when she moved her leg. "But, I can't leave the premises without one of these guys until my attacker is caught."

Cathy smiled sympathetically and pulled a folder out of her bag. "Well, I hope that this will give you something to do."

James opened the folder and smiled seeing an application inside the leather. "You're willing to let me have a chance at this job?"

"James, honey, if you are anything like your parents, you are going to make one of the best workers a Secretary of State could ever have," Cathy said, a grin plastered across her face. "I just want you to really think about it. If you still want the job once this whole ordeal has been put to rest, bring me the finished application and I will set a formal interview with my staff."

James closed the folder, letting it rest on her lap. "Thanks for letting me do this the right way."

"I know you wouldn't allow any other way." Cathy chuckled. She watched as Doug lowered the pile of textbooks down onto the coffee table next to James' foot. "Is that really all your homework for today?"

"Some of it was from today. One of my teachers didn't get all my schoolwork put together earlier this week when my mom requested. So, Mom made sure that she personally delivered my homework to Daddy's office." James explained before looking up at Doug. "Did they say when they'd be home?"

Doug nodded, pulling out his phone and putting on his glasses. "I will ask for you. Do you know where your father keeps his cufflinks?"

James smiled. "The ones with his initials are probably on Mom's makeup table." She watched as Doug hurried upstairs before turning back to Cathy. "Thank you for bringing that application here. I know it isn't exactly professional."

"Don't be silly. I should've been here sooner. It's just been so hectic with the President, and now I'm working with your father." Cathy sighed, shaking her head as if everything hadn't caught up to her yet. "I have just been worried sick. When I heard you had been attacked, I didn't know what to think."

James set the folder aside. "That's my fault. I told Daddy I didn't want anyone to know. He had to tell the President, of course, but I didn't want people to know that I was in this situation. Who knew the paparazzi were waiting at the hospital for news on Hank's boy that night?"

"Yes, I forgot about that." Cathy gasped. "Wasn't that an overdose?"

"Yeah, the funeral was last week." James breathed. "I'm glad you came. It gives me a nice break from," she gestured to the homework, "all this."

Cathy chuckled shaking her head. "Well, I'm not going to be the excuse as to why your grades will start to slip. Your father will have my head on a silver platter waiting to serve to the President." James laughed as Cathy grabbed the first text book off the pile. "Calculus? Girl, you are ambitious."

James grinned. "I try." She shrugged before a paper slipped out of the book and landed on Cathy's lap. "What's that?"

Cathy picked up the picture, all color draining from her face when she looked down at it. "Your father was right."

"About what?" James asked.

"I think somebody at the White House is after him, and he's using you as the target." Cathy said turning the paper for James to see. It was the picture from Francis's desk. In red marker, James was circled when red writing scrawled underneath: It's not over. Cathy looked over to Meechum in the foyer. "Call Frank."

* * *

Francis and Claire rushed into the house, followed by their own team of secret service members. Detectives stood around the living room, some examining the homework that was on the coffee table. "Where is she?" Claire asked Cathy who was talking to a detective in the foyer.

"In the kitchen with Meechum." Cathy sighed before Claire hurried off. She looked at Francis. "You were right. It's someone in the White House. That homework went from the school to your office, someone with access."

"The same person who stole the picture." Francis agreed before stepping into the living room and joining the throng of detectives tearing apart the thousands of dollars worth of education that he had been paying for the past twelve years. "Where is the photo?"

"Right here, Congressman." A tall detective said stepping around the couch, holding the photo with gloved hands. "We've dusted it for fingerprints. We'll need yours and your wife's to eliminate."

Francis nodded as he stared down at the photo. "Of course." He swallowed hard seeing the red circle around his infant daughter's face, her innocent little hand raised to wave to the people who supported him. "Please, tell me you have a lead."

"We will run any other prints from the photo against our system and see if anything pops. But, chances are we won't have anything if our perp works in the White House." The detective explained. "I would advise that we keep James away from there until we find who did this."

Francis huffed out a breath, resting his hand on his forehead. "Of course."

* * *

"James!" Claire nearly gasped as she hurried to her daughter's side.

James turned and welcomed the hug from her mother, burying her face in her shoulder. She closed her eyes when Claire cupped the back of her head. "Someone took the photo."

"I know. You're father has been searching for it all day." Claire whispered, loud enough for the detective to hear.

"The photo went missing from your husband's office today?" The detective asked, holding his pen slightly closer to his notepad.

Claire kept her arm around James when she pulled back slightly. "Either last night or today. When he arrived at his office, he couldn't find it. Nearly shredded the place apart looking for it." She stroked James' hair. "Was there anything else besides the photo?"

"My detectives are looking through the rest right now." The detective gestured out to their living room. "If they find any other items, substances-"

Claire interrupted him. "Substances?"

The detective held up his hands. "We're just checking. Whoever did this most likely tried to kill your daughter or harm her in some other way. We want to make sure that there is nothing else that will hurt her."

"Where's my daughter?" Francis asked walking into the room, physically relaxing when he saw James underneath Claire's arm. "C'mere, darlin'." He engulfed her in his arms when she hurried to him, kissing the side of her head. "Are you alright?"

James nodded. "I'm fine, just shaken up." She glanced back out at the living room. "Who would do something like that?"

"I don't know, darlin'. That's what these police officers are here to find out." Francis explained before noticing James still staring out at the homework that she probably wouldn't want to touch now. He pulled her away from the doorway, blocking her view. "Can you do me a favor?" James nodded. He placed his cufflinks in her hands. "Can you put those up on my nightstand? I'll be home for the rest of the night."

James kissed Francis' cheek. "Sure, Daddy."

Claire watched as James walked away and looked to Meechum. "Go with her."

Francis waited until Meechum left the room to turn back to the detective. "Can you please explain to me why my daughter is being terrorized in her own home by the same person who attacked with a knife a month ago?" He boomed, nearly tearing off his suit jacket and whipping it to the ground.

"Congressman, we are doing everything that we can. But if this person is in the White House, they will most likely be protected." The detective tried to explain.

"Are you trying to tell me that you won't arrest somebody because of their status?" Francis asked, pointing his finger at the detective's chest.

Claire stood next to him, resting her hand on his chest. "Francis, he's just trying to do his job. You of all people know how elusive the White House can be." She stroked his cheek as he jerked away from the detective. "Right now, he's our only chance at helping our daughter."

Francis sighed, looking back to officer. "Sorry. I'm just frustrated."

"We all are, Congressman. We were hoping to close this weeks ago." He replied. "It doesn't look good on us if we can't close a case like this."

Francis glared at him. "You are worried about appearances. And here, I thought you might actually be concerned about the welfare of my daughter."

Claire gently pushed on the detective's shoulder. "How about you just let us know when you'll be done?" The detective left the room, glancing back at them multiple times before joining his other officers. "You had a stressful day."

"The photo. I just saw it." Francis whispered, glancing over his shoulder for a moment. "I know what it is, but it still makes me..."

Claire prodded him. "Cringe. Sick to your stomach."

"Yes," Francis said, "that's my baby girl in that photo, and it is marked with a target and a threat."

Claire cupped his face in her hands. "I know. I only saw it for a second, and I just wanted to keep her locked up in here the rest of her life."

Francis pressed his forehead to hers. "I told you we shouldn't have had kids. I still regret it."

"Yes, I know you do. But, you wouldn't want it any other way either." Claire reminded him. "I know that you didn't want to have kids only so that you could protect them from the evils of the world like the one our daughter is facing now. You wanted to protect our daughter by not having her. But, aren't you happier having her here than not knowing her?"

Francis smiled slightly. "Using my daughter against me, one of two weaknesses."

Claire pecked his lips. "Answer my question, Francis."

"Yes, I adore her. Are you happy?" Francis asked crossing his arms over his chest.

Claire nodded once. "Slightly satisfied."

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	17. Chapter 17

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James trotted down the stairs, glancing around the living room at the remaining text books the detectives had left. Francis and Claire stood together, trying to tidy the mess. "Are they all gone?" She asked.

"Yes, they left a few minutes ago." Claire said, watching her daughter examine the catastrophe that had settled into their house. She picked up the folder that Cathy had brought over. "Are you really considering this?"

James shrugged. "It's a chance at experience at the very least." She picked up one of her textbooks, flipping through the pages. "I'll have the background for my career later, and I can give you a heads up on what Cathy is doing when you make it to the White House." Cleaning up the coffee table, she glanced around. "Where's Meechum?"

Francis cleared his throat. "I sent him out to pick up dinner." He handed James one of her textbooks. "How did you set this up?"

"Doug got all the evidence. Cathy picked up the textbook and held it perfectly. The picture fell right into her lap." James explained, noticing the dark circles around her father's eyes. "When was the last time you slept, Daddy?"

"Last night," Francis said. "It's just the stress. I knew that you set all this up, but that photo..." He bit the inside of his lip before walking out of the room, leaving the two in the living room.

Claire sat down on the coffee table across from her daughter. "He's just scared, baby. You know his worst fear is losing us and this life, don't you?"

James nodded. "I knew the picture would push him a little bit, but I needed it to." She ran a hand through her hair. "I couldn't have cool, calm, and collected. I needed his real self."

"Well, those detectives saw him for a moment," Claire said with a slight smile. She wrapped her hand around James'. "He'll be fine. He just needs to get it out of his system." Choosing her next words carefully, she let it spill. "How are things going with Meechum?"

James inhaled sharply. "They're good... right now." She bit her lip, looking down at her hands. "We'll see how things are once this whole thing is over." She started tracing over the lines on her mother's palm. "This life that you chose, that I'm choosing, it's not for everyone."

"No, it's not." Claire agreed. "He knows about the plan. What does he think about all of it?"

James glanced down at her leg, a scar starting to form at the ends of the laceration. "He knows it's wrong, but he wants me to do it. He's been working with the White House for years. He knows exactly what kind of lengths we'll go to in order to protect our own. Going about this the right way won't get us anywhere. He's not happy. He'll probably live to regret it, but he knows it's the only way to do this." She smiled slightly seeing the wedding band resting on her mother's finger. "When did you know that you had to have Dad in your life?"

Claire smiled. "That question, huh?" She pondered a moment before crossing her leg over the other. "I think it was probably during the first few months we were dating. Your father and I were out to dinner at this restaurant that nobody in Washington would be caught dead in now. Every guy in there was looking at us, more so me than him. When I mentioned that to your father, he didn't become the insanely possessive or jealous guy. He said, 'let them look, let them see what they'll never have'. I knew then that your father wasn't going to keep me away from the world just to have me for himself. He wanted me to shine wherever I went and know that no matter what happened I would still be his at the end of the day." She brushed her daughter's hair away from her face. "Your father knew I didn't want that."

"That sounds just like him." James grinned.

Claire nodded with a slight chuckle before looking back at her daughter. "Are you feeling the same way?"

"I don't know," James said with a small sigh. "I know I want him in my life, but I don't know if I have to have him yet." She looked towards the windows when headlights flashed through the front windows. "That's probably him."

"Why don't you go get your father? He can eat before he gets going on that rowing machine." Claire suggested before standing, kissing her daughter's head. "I'll help Meechum get things ready."

* * *

James slowly walked down the stairs, listening the rushing water from the rowing machine her father was using. "Dad?" His feet sprung off the board again. "Daddy?" She sighed when Francis didn't even turn to her. Walking in front of the machine, she waited until Francis was about to jump off the board again when she locked the rope into place, preventing any kind of movement on Francis' part.

"Hey!" Francis protested.

"I'm trying to talk to you." James said squatting in front of him. "Are you mad at me?"

Francis shook his head. "No."

"Then, what is going on?" James asked, slapping his hands away from the lock.

Francis frowned. "I'm trying to work out here."

James crossed her arms over her chest. "I know that picture bothered you. But, I'm right here. Nothing is going to happen to me. The photo, yes you loved it, but it's just a photo. I'm standing in front of you, right now." She grabbed his hands when he went for the lock again. "Talk to me."

"I know what you're saying, but I just need to clear my head." Francis sighed. "It's not easy watching this unfold, even if I want it to."

"How do you think I feel?" James asked. "You've done this more times than I have." She let go of his hands when he dropped his arms. "I know this is dangerous and unpredictable, but I'm prepared for that."

Francis unlocked the rope, but only pushed out far enough to straighten his legs. "That's what scares me. You're turning into your mother and I."

James smirked. "And, that's bad?" She chuckled when Francis rolled his eyes.

"You really think you're ready for this?" Francis asked.

James tapped the equipment with her nails. "It doesn't really matter if I'm ready or not. It's happening."

* * *

Francis opened his eyes when he heard the bathroom door close. Claire stepped inside, wearing nothing but her robe. Settling back into the hot water, he leaned back against the white tub. "I hope you weren't planning on using this."

Claire hung her robe up on the door, stepping into the bathtub and sitting down between his legs. "I wasn't planning on using it alone." She sighed contently laying back against his chest. "What were you thinking about?"

"The next twenty-six years." Francis hummed. "Underwood will be plastered across the country for the next twenty-six years. President Francis Underwood. President Claire Underwood. President James Underwood."

Claire smiled. "Don't sell us so short."

"What do you mean?" Francis asked, slowly massaging her arms. He pressed his lips against her temple.

"We're taking Garrett Walker out of office. What makes you think we can't do the same to somebody else?" Claire asked, a smirk gracing her features. She chuckled seeing the grin on her husband's face. "We could be in office until the day we die."

Francis smiled. "Pave the way for every future Underwood."

"If there are any." Claire retorted. "We almost ended our bloodline."

Francis let his hand glide from her arm to her torso, lazily drawing circles closer to her waist. "It's your fault. I couldn't resist you." He began kissing behind her ear as she giggled. "Still can't."

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	18. Chapter 18

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Meechum groaned contently as he slid underneath the covers, wrapping his tall frame around James. "I thought you'd be asleep."

James smiled feeling his lips against her shoulder, his breath tickling her skin. "I like to stay up as long as possible when it's a full moon." She peered up at the sky that wasn't just lit with city lights tonight. "The light makes even the darkest places at night a little less black."

"That's very deep." Meechum concluded. He started rubbing his thumb against the material of her tank top, the shirt rubbing against her stomach. "There's no turning back after today. We officially started this now."

"I know," James said before turning around to face him. "Are you okay with that?"

Meechum pressed his forehead to hers. "I just want you safe. I told you I don't like this. It goes against everything I've ever fought to protect."

"I know." James repeated.

Meechum pulled her body closer to his. "I wish I had met you earlier. I could've prevented all of this from ever happening." He brushed back her hair, the moonlight making them both visible to one another. "You wouldn't hurt as much as you do now."

"Me too." James smirked. "But, it would've happened to somebody else if not me. Not every girl out there would've escaped that car." She began tracing his jaw. "I have the strength to do this because of you, Edward. There is no way I would be doing everything I was if it weren't for you."

"I have been begging you not to do this almost every step of the way." Meechum frowned.

James smiled, biting her lip. "I know, but you reminded me that guys like you get a bad rap for protecting boys like him. I don't care if he's the First Son. The government can't protect a rapist."

Meechum ran his fingers down her neck. "He didn't rape you though."

"I'm not the only one he's attacked." James reminded him before his lips covered hers. She moaned softly when she felt him through his pants, her hips pressing against his. His hands wound around her, touching ever patch of skin that was available. She gently scratched his bare back, feeling the pull in her stomach. "Edward?" She panted when his lips tore away from hers.

Meechum shook his head. "Sorry," he breathed, his chest expanded rapidly. "I just don't like it when I know you've been in that kind of danger."

James kissed him again. "It will all be over soon."

* * *

Claire wrapped her arms around Francis' shoulders, kneeling behind him as he sat on the edge of the bed. He was looking down at the copy of the photo he had kept in his nightstand for years. "She's safe, Francis. Two doors away with Meechum."

"I know." Francis nodded before turning his head, kissing her cheek. "It's just my favorite picture of us." He tapped the picture with his finger. "Do you remember the day this photo was taken?"

"How could I forget?" Claire smiled. "We nearly hit that cow in the middle of the road, and we had to run five miles to the nearest town. We had to stuff our clothes into a backpack and strap James into her stroller. When we arrived to the event, we took turns changing in the porter potties."

Francis chuckled. "Everyone must've thought we were crazy."

"We kind of were." Claire breathed, resting her chin on his shoulder. "James learned to say Underwood that day after everyone chanted it." She stroked his cheek briefly, feeling the stubble against her fingers. "She's turned into an Underwood, Francis. There's no way to go back."

Francis hummed in agreement. "Before we know it, she'll be gunning for the White House."

Claire remembered the application she found on the coffee table. "I think she already is." She slid her legs over the edge of the bed, sitting beside Francis. "Applying for the State Department. She's got the inside track with Cathy. You'll have the inside information that Cathy doesn't share with us."

"You know what," Francis began, resting the photo back on his nightstand. "I think we've had enough business talk for the day." He rested his head on her shoulder. "Are you happy, Claire?"

"How would you respond if I asked you that question?" Claire asked with a smile, stroking his hair gently.

Francis grinned. "I'd probably say that was a silly question."

"Exactly." Claire agreed. "Why do you ask?"

Francis closed his eyes. "This can't be exactly what you imagined for us."

Claire shook her head. "No, it's not. It's better." She chuckled when he pulled away to give her a skeptical look. "You promised me a life of adventure. That's what we've had. Most of those adventures were because of the surprise two doors down that we both adore."

"Yeah, she wasn't exactly part of our plans." Francis sighed.

Claire stroked his cheek. "No, she wasn't. Yet, we would do anything to protect her."

"We have done everything to protect her." Francis reminded her. "Remember Congressman Hart? Trying to silicate a date just so he would sign a bill."

"I thought you said no more business talk." Claire stated. "You know how upset you get when you talk about that." She slowly loosened his tie, pulling it over his head with a little help from him. "Are you happy?"

Francis grinned. "That's a silly question." He leaned forward and kissed her lips. "I love you more than anyone ever could. I hope you know that."

Claire smiled. "Yes, I do." She watched as he laid back on their mattress before joining him herself, cozying up to his side. She frowned when her nose caught scent of their favorite cigarettes in his shirt. "I thought we were quitting, Francis."

"I've got them in the nightstand." Francis stated before Claire reached for them, pulling the box out of the drawer. "You've got me using that rowing machine as much as you run."

"It's to make you healthier." Claire stated. "I don't want to outlive you, Francis." She swatted his hand when he reached for the box, giggling when he let out a groan of disapproval. "I'm going to hide these things from you. We can only smoke together."

Francis sat up when she stood, removing herself from his arms to hide the desired object. "How do I know you won't smoke them all without me?"

"I guess you'll just have to trust me." Claire smirked.

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	19. Chapter 19

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Doug looked up from his laptop when the door to the guest bedroom creaked open. He smiled when he saw James slip into the room, closing the door as quietly as she could. "Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes."

"Please, I probably look like I was just pulled out of the backseat of a car." James sighed before climbing into the bed next to him, laying her head on his shoulder to look at his laptop. "I know I've been distant lately-"

He cut her off. "I understand. What happened... it's my fault." He cut her off again when she opened her mouth to say something. "I shouldn't have yelled at you about Gordon asking you out. You told me that you declined at first, but I still couldn't handle it."

James shook her head. "I still shouldn't have gone out with him." She kissed his shoulder. "I only did it to make you mad. Karma caught up with me." She felt his lips skim her forehead before closing his laptop. "Thank you for today."

"Don't thank me yet. There is still a lot more we have to do before this is over." Doug breathed, rubbing her back. He closed his eyes, burying his nose in her hair. "You smell like him."

James smiled when he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to his chest. "We've been getting closer. I need to be if this is going to work." She felt the muscles in his chest tense up. "I don't love him if that's what you're worried about. But, I do care for him. He's shown a great deal of loyalty, and he's willing to die for me."

"I'd be willing to die for you." Doug reminded her.

"Only if it gave me an edge against the competition." James retorted, tangling her hand with his. "I don't like it when you talk like that."

Doug squeezed her arm reassuringly. "I know, but, sometimes, I need to remind you." Letting go of her arm, he let his hand wander down her side, drawing circles on her hip. "How are we going to do this?"

James pulled back slightly. "I told you that you didn't have to be the one to do it."

"Yes, but you'd feel better if it was me first." Doug said, pulling her back to him and holding her tighter. "It doesn't bother me. It would bother me if I wasn't involved at all and it was just him." He played with the waistband of her shorts. "This is me jealous if you haven't noticed yet."

"I couldn't tell." James said sarcastically with a chuckle. She rested her hand over his eyes, effectively closing them. "You should get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a media frenzy."

Doug smiled before kissing her. "I'll see you in the morning."

* * *

Francis smiled as he watched Claire pick through her dresses, wearing a robe that she hadn't bothered to tie together after her shower. "Looking for something special?" He asked from the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Thinking about getting a few new things." Claire stated as she pulled out a dress she would normally wear. "I can remember the last time I wore each of these. We will be in front of hundreds of cameras today with yesterday's visit from the police." She stepped back from her closet. "Do you have a preference?"

Francis closed the closet and moved around her to the wardrobe she barely touched. Opening up the door, he pulled out a dress he knew she hadn't touched in years. "I think this will do just fine for today."

Claire took the light purple material into her hands. "Francis, I haven't worn this since your run for Congress."

"It should fit like a glove." Francis smiled with a nod. "How would you like to play this out today?"

Claire let her robe slip from her shoulders, draping it over the chair sitting at her makeup table. "We downplay the weakness, promote the secret service and police in the hopes that justice will come out of this." She smiled pulling on the dress. "We need to show some emotion though."

Francis stepped behind her and slowly pulled up the zipper. "The power of a dramatic pause."

"We could have Garrett create his own sword." Claire added before turning to him. "Create a monster."

"And, have him fall on it when the rest of his world comes crashing down." Francis smiled before tapping his ring twice on the vanity beside them and reaching for his phone. "I'll make the call."

* * *

Francis reached back into the car to take Claire's hand as the throng of reporter's surrounded them, firing off questions about the police and James. Their secret service team pushed them back as another swarm of them came down the steps, surrounding Garrett Walker. "Mr. Vice President, why is someone targeting your daughter? Do you think it has something to do with you?"

Once Garrett reached their circle, he turned to the reporter. "I'm not sure. My daughter has done nothing to deserve this. Whoever is doing this, they will be caught by the hardworking detectives here in D.C."

"Let's get you inside." Garrett whispered to Francis.

"Mr. President, what is the White House doing about the situation?" A different reporter called out.

Garrett stopped and turned to the young man. "We are doing everything we can to find the person that is terrorizing Ms. Underwood. I've assured the Vice President that the perpetrator will not get passed anyone in the White House, including myself. In fact, I have discussed it, and we would like the Vice President and his family to stay in the East Wing with us until this issue is resolved." He held up his hands. "That will be all."

Claire squeezed Francis' hand as they climbed up the rest of the stairs, leaving behind the reporters who were trying to break passed the secret service members. "White House, huh?"

"Only will I stay here when my title is President of these United States." Francis whispered into her ear, smiling when Garrett looked back at them. "That is a very generous offer, Mr. President."

"It's the least I could do. It is, in fact, that safest building in this country." Garrett smiled as they entered the building.

Claire pulled her jacket tighter. "As nice as that is, I don't know if that's the best idea. If this person is after Francis, they are most likely in the White House. The detectives at our house yesterday told us to keep James as far away from here as possible." She tucked her hair behind her ear. "I'd rather my daughter be familiar with her surroundings. She's as safe at home as she would be here."

Garrett frowned slightly. "Do you honestly believe that the person who did this is after you, Frank?"

"I'm not sure, but I agree with Claire." Francis stated. "That photo was stolen from my desk and was sent to my daughter with her homework after it sat in my office all day yesterday. I believe she would be safer at home than she would be here." He held out his hand. "But, I really do appreciate the offer, Sir."

"I can respect that." Garrett smiled slightly, shaking Francis' extended hand. "Remember, I can help in anyway you need me to."

Claire smiled. "Thank you."

The two watched as Garrett walked away with his security detail. Francis kissed Claire's temple. "That beautiful mind of yours astonishes me every time."

"Astonishes?" Claire asked with a frown.

"Amazes me." Francis offered.

Claire smiled. "Much better."

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	20. Chapter 20

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Meechum drummed his fingers, holding a book he had long since lost interest in, as he stared at James working on her laptop. "Are you filling out that application?"

"I did that earlier." James stated, glancing up to look at his bored expression. "I'm working on my book report now. Why do you ask?"

"I was just thinking about what will happen when this is all over," Meechum said. His eyes started wandering around the room. "When this plan is over,... where will we stand?"

James shrugged. "We'll be in the White House-"

"No," Meechum interrupted her. "Where will _we_ be?" He moved over to the couch, bumping their knees together. "Other than a trip, you will be protected by the White House security detail."

James put her laptop on the coffee table and turned fully towards him. "With this plan we have, they'll be bound to promote you to the White House detail, probably mine. You will have saved me in the public's eyes."

Meechum smiled kindly. He ran his thumb over her lips before pecking them. "A perfect love story. Man saves girl. Girl falls in love with man. It would probably be a good boost to your numbers if you ever decide to run."

"Oh, I'll be running alright." James nodded. She rested her hand on his chest. "It kind of is the perfect love story, isn't it? Partners in policy."

Meechum chuckled. "I don't know about that." He stood up, heading towards the kitchen. "I'll most likely only be good at protecting you. Talking policy isn't exactly my strong suit."

James curled herself up on the couch, snuggling into the throw pillows behind her. "That's fine with me."

* * *

Francis watched Doug tap away on his IPad before clearing his throat. "Last night, did you notice anything strange going on with my daughter and Meechum?" Doug furrowed his eyebrows together. "I know that she's always been a sociable girl. You two are like peas in a pod." He rested his temple against his ring. "But, I feel like there's something more going on with that Meechum guy."

"What do you mean, sir?" Doug asked, taking off his glasses.

"Well, he is always staring at her." Francis tried to explain. "It's as if he is in love with her. I get he is supposed to be watching and protecting her, but he has barely left our house to sleep in his own bed. He gets involved with her physical therapy and follows her around like a dog."

Doug glanced back down at his IPad. "Do you want me to look further into it?"

Francis glared at Doug. "What? Are you going to stare at them through the keyhole?"

"No," Doug said, "send the guy home for the night to sleep. I can talk to James about what's going on." He put his glasses back on. "For all we know, she's letting him do all this so that his loyalty won't waiver." He laid down the IPad on the desk, letting the page face Francis. "Until her date with Walker, she hadn't really shown interest in dating. After what he did, I'm sure a guy who is willing to do anything to protect her is a nice change of pace."

Francis picked up the tablet, looking at the screen through his glasses. "That could very likely be." Looking down at the article Doug had pulled up, he smiled reading the headline. "President Offers VP 'Supposed' Safe Haven at White House." He saw the smirk on Doug's face before continuing to the first paragraph. "President Walker has offered up a stay at the White house to Vice President Underwood in the hopes of providing a safer environment for the targeted family." He nearly tossed the tablet onto the desk. "This makes Garrett sound like a fucking saint."

Doug smiled. "Read the last paragraph."

"With his hand extended out to help, President Walker has truly lived up to the expectations of James Underwood's stalker. As insinuated this morning by Vice President Underwood himself and the detectives handling this case, the person who is after the family most likely has access to the White House." Francis grinned. "So, why would President Walker invite the family to stay in the East Wing of the White House? Yes, it is safest building in America. Yet, is it all that safe to the Underwoods if the perpetrator works on the inside?"

Doug crossed his arms over his chest. "We can work with this."

Francis took off his glasses. "Yes, we can."

* * *

"I'd rather not, Ma'am." Meechum stated, standing at the bottom of the stairs with Claire and Francis. "My job is to protect your daughter. I can't do that if I'm not here."

"You also can't do that if you are suffering from exhaustion." Claire reminded him. "This isn't a negotiation, Edward. We would like you to go home for the night, get some sleep. Maybe even call a friend to spend some time with."

Francis nodded in agreement. "It's okay, Meechum. Our daughter is in safe hands here with us." He glanced up the stairs, seeing James sitting on the top step in the dark. "Our house is as safe as the White House at this point. James will be just fine without you for one night."

Meechum hesitated a moment before removing his jacket draped over his arm and putting it on. "Then, I guess I will head home." Walking to the door, he turned to them one last time. "Goodnight Mr. Vice President, Mrs. Underwood."

"Goodnight, Meechum." Claire smiled kindly before Francis closed the door after him. She looked up to her daughter. "Part of the plan."

James stood up, nodding her head, as she walked down. "He started asking me about our future today."

"Your future? What possible future would he have with you?" Francis asked, his eyebrows furrowing together.

James crossed her arms over her chest. "He's wondering if he'll get to be on my detail once we get into the White House." She brushed off the front of his suit jacket, subtly distracting him. "We've grown close since he arrived."

Francis grabbed her wrist gently, but firmly. "How close?"

"I'm not having his baby if that's what you're implying." James stated. "If you think that he could hold so much power over me in a matter of a few weeks, you don't think very highly of me."

"I am only reporting what I've been seeing." Francis breathed before kissing her forehead. "He's been sleeping in your room at night."

James ran a hand through her hair. "That doesn't mean anything, Daddy. He's just being protective," she turned away, heading for the kitchen, "much like you."

Francis turned to Claire. "Why do I have the feeling that I'm the only one in the dark about this?"

"You're not the only one," Claire said before walking towards the kitchen, her heels clicking on the wooden floors as she went.

Francis soon followed, finding Claire and James assisting Doug as he made dinner. He smiled when James laughed at a smart remark Doug mumbled to her. "Aren't you two chummy? Last time I saw you two together, you were ready to rip each other to shreds."

Doug barely managed to fake a smile. "It was a stupid argument. One that we both regret now." He started moving the fry pan around on the stove. "Besides, argument or not, we have a job to do."

Claire put a hand on his shoulder. "Let me handle this. You have been helping us all day. We would be terrible hosts if we let you cook for us in our own home."

"Well," Doug started to speak, but cut himself off with a smile when Claire slid her hand onto the pan handle. "Fair enough."

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	21. Chapter 21

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Francis spit into the sink, placing his toothbrush back on the vanity, before walking into his and Claire's bedroom. "Do you think that James is together with Meechum?"

"How so?" Claire asked, not bothering to look up from her laptop.

"It's our daughter. Don't make me say the actual words." Francis retorted before dropping down onto their bed.

Claire glanced over at him, trying to hide the smile that was forming at the corners of her mouth. "I don't think James has had sex with Meechum if that's what you're referring to."

Francis covered his ears. "No father ever wants to hear his child's name in the same sentence as sex." He sighed before looking over at Claire, seeing her fingers bounce of the keyboard as she typed. "Do you know why her plan was to get Meechum out of the house tonight?"

"No," Claire said. "But, I'm pretty sure his insinuation about their future together probably freaked out her. He's a glorified bodyguard. She's been picturing her life with someone who is going to support her the way we have for each other." She closed her laptop, setting it on her nightstand. "I don't see any romance between them lasting more than a month."

"Why's that?" Francis asked, wrapping his arm around her when she laid down.

Claire sighed contently, resting her head on his chest. "He'll coddle her. She doesn't want to be adored and put on a pedestal. She wants to be with somebody who will treat her as a partner, as an equal. She grew up with that. She'll want that. Meechum will hold her back trying to protect her. If she's anything like us, she won't even consider him moving forward."

"Poor man." Francis grinned. "His heart will be crushed."

Claire looked up at him. "And, he'll become a liability."

Francis met her eyes, all humor gone. "We'll have to take care of him. He already knows too much." He looked up at the ceiling. "But, James would've planned for that in the beginning. She wouldn't create a liability unless she could control it."

"It's her first crush. Maybe she got her head caught in the clouds on this one." Claire concluded.

"That could very well be." Francis agreed. "Hopefully, we'll learn more in the morning. Doug said he would talk to her tonight about what was going on."

* * *

James quietly closed her door before tip toeing back to her bed, climbing under the covers with Doug. "You can still back out you know."

"I don't want to." Doug replied before taking her hand into his. "Unless you don't want this anymore."

"I want this." James smiled before kissing him slowly. She let Doug grab her waist and lower her onto her back.

Doug slipped his hand underneath her night shirt, his fingers dancing across her inner thighs before moving further. He smiled, catching her gasp in his mouth. He felt her muscles tense as he continued to curl his fingers inside of her. "Just relax." He whispered, feeling her quick exhales on his chest. "You're doing just fine, baby."

James pressed her lips together in an effort to muffle her moan. Reaching down, she snuck her hand into Doug's boxers, wrapping her hand around him. "You're not doing too bad yourself." She whimpered when his thumb pressed against a particularly sensitive spot.

"Take off the shirt." Doug breathed before removing his hand from between her legs and lowering his boxers. As she lifted up her shirt, he leaned down and licked folds once, enjoying the way her body reacted. "Are you ready?"

James spread her legs wider, pushing her heels into his calves to pull him closer. "Don't hold back."

* * *

Francis jogged down the steps, buttoning up his jacket, when he saw Doug standing at the bottom of the staircase. He was already slapping his fingertips against his phone, his glasses sitting on his nose. "Good morning, Doug. Did you even sleep last night? You are in the same position you were in when I went to bed last night."

Doug smiled. "I was working on our path to the White House, but, yes, I did get some sleep." He glanced up the stairs to the closed door to James' room. "I talked to James about her relationship with Meechum."

"What did she say?" Francis asked, adjusting his cuff links.

"She's got a plan." Doug stated simply. "He won't be a liability when this is all over. He will actually be a great asset to our plan." He smiled at Claire when she came down the steps and stood beside Francis. "Good morning, Ma'am."

Claire smiled. "You can call me Claire when you are here, Doug."

"Well, I will be going home tonight. I appreciate the hospitality, but there's nothing like sleeping in your own bed," Doug said. "But, thank you, Claire."

Claire kissed his cheek. "You are welcome here anytime." She turned to Francis. "Did you say goodbye to James yet?"

Francis shook his head. "No, her door was locked."

"I'll go check on her." Claire said, heading for the kitchen.

Doug frowned. "Uh, she's in her room."

Claire came back, holding up a key in her hand. "Yes, but I can't get in there without a key. We don't have time to negotiate when she'll unlock her door right now." She started up the stares, but glanced over her shoulder to look at Francis. "What time is Meechum getting here?"

"He'll probably be here any minute. We'll keep him down here to give you two privacy." Francis replied before pulling out his own phone. "Lord knows he'll sit outside her door until she opens it."

Claire smiled shaking her head as she continued up to her daughter's room. She knocked on the door twice. "James, honey, we're leaving. Can you let me in?" When she didn't hear anything, she unlocked the door, entering the room before closing the door behind here. She froze when she saw her bed stripped, the bedding laying on the floor beside the bed. Walking over to the pile, she moved the comforter with her foot to find blood on James' sheets. "Fuck." She breathed before the bathroom door opened on the other side of the room.

James jumped when she saw her mother standing in the middle of her room. She tightened the towel around her small frame. "Mom, what are you doing?"

"What am I doing?" Claire questioned. "What the hell are you doing?"

"It's not what you think." James stated, taking a step back when Claire hurried over to her.

Claire ripped the towel away from her daughter, seeing the hickeys and small bruises that covered her body. She groaned when she saw the darker bruises on her inner thighs. "James, what were you thinking?"

James grabbed the towel back, wrapping it around herself. "I was thinking that I wanted to get into the White House faster."

"So, you slept with Meechum to do that." Claire concluded, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"No," James said. "He's the next part of the plan. I didn't want him to be my first." She took a deep breath, waiting for Claire to connect the dots. "It's not everything you believe it is."

Claire pinched the bridge of her nose. "Are you telling me that you slept with Doug?" She sat down when James didn't make a move to deny the accusation. "Oh my God. Why Doug?"

James bit her lip. "We've kind of been seeing each other." Moving to sit down in the chair beside her, she grimaced. "We were hanging out together on my birthday. Daddy was working late, getting his Secretary of State campaign plan started. You had a charity event emergency. Dad told Doug to keep me company until you two go home. We were hanging out. Before I knew it, we were kissing." She twisted the corner of the towel in her hands. "We both immediately agreed that it was a mistake, but it kept happening. Waiting in his office after school for Dad, helping out at your charity events, hanging out together when there was a special dinner you two had to go to, we ended up in the same situation."

"How long have you two been together?" Claire asked.

"It's been about eight months since we decided it was better we act on our feelings than get caught up in them every time we were alone." James sighed. She watched as Claire buried her face in her hands. "Last night was the first time we did anything."

Claire stood up and pointed to the sheets. "Obviously." She put her hands on her hips. "Honestly, James, this was stupid. Eight months of stupidity. Do you know how old he is?"

James rolled her eyes. "Of course, I do. That doesn't matter to me."

"Wait," Claire held up her hand. "Why did you go on a date with Gordon if you were dating Doug?"

James leaned back in the chair, wrapping the towel tighter around herself. "Gordon asked me out. I turned him down. That night when I was talking with Doug, I brought it up as a joke, and he went completely nuts. He got super possessive and asked me if I was looking for a younger guy to replace him. The argument got so heated that I told Doug I was going to go out with Gordon just because he was being an ass about it."

"Of course, you did." Claire huffed, half smiling at the fact her daughter was too much like herself for her own good. "Can I ask you something and get an honest answer?" James nodded. "Why are you with Doug?"

James shrugged. "It's a bunch of little things. He likes to keep me guarded, but he'll let me stand and face the music on my own when I need to. He never lets a day go by without checking in on me, even if it's just to say good morning or goodnight or an 'I love you'." She looked at the bed. "He wants the same things I do out of life. And, he hasn't held me back from my goals in order to accomplish his. He keeps me grounded." She looked back to her mother, still seeing the curious gaze. "I love him, Mom."

Claire inhaled sharply. "I pictured this moment a little bit differently. I want to be happy for you; I really do. But, there's a lot of things that are upsetting me right now."

"I understand." James nodded, running a hand through her hair. "I know that I usually tell you and Dad everything, but you two are with Doug all day. We didn't want you to treat him differently because he was with me."

"Okay," Claire said. "I can get that." She tucked her hair behind her ear before squatting down in front of her daughter, placing her hands on both arms of the chair. "Now, I want to hear every detail of this plan from now until the end. The real plan."

James nodded her head. "I figured." She bit her lip. "You'll hate it though."

Claire brushed back James' hair. "I'm sure I will." She smiled slightly. "Who knew you would turn out exactly like your father and I?"

"I guess you raised me right." James chuckled before dropping her forehead to Claire's. "Thanks Mom."

"I love you too." Claire smiled before pecking her lips.

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	22. Chapter 22

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"Is something wrong?" Francis asked, taking Claire's hand into his as they stopped in the White House hallway. "You have been quiet ever since we left the house this morning. Did James say something?"

Claire shook her head. She smoothed out the front of his jacket, picking her next words carefully. "It was just a surprise. The truth finally came out, Francis. I know her plan, her real plan. She's turned out more like us than we ever imagined." She glanced down the hallway towards their waiting meeting with Garrett. "We can discuss it later."

Francis stopped her from walking away. "Are you sure? We can always reschedule this. We don't owe him a moment of our time if there is something more important."

"I'm sure." Claire nodded with a small smile. "This hour won't change anything that has already happened. Her plan won't change." She still saw the look of hesitation in his eyes. "Honestly, Francis, it'll be okay for another hour." She kissed his cheek before pulling his hand towards the Oval Office. "C'mon, we've got work to do."

"You seem extra motivated today." Meechum stated as he watched James continue to pull herself up past her usual count. "Are you getting nervous for all of this to start?"

"I'm getting anxious. I want it to start." James gritted out through clenched teeth before dropping to the floor. "I'm thinking three days."

Meechum nearly spit out the gulp of water he just swallowed. "Three days? Three days and you want to be in the White House."

James shook her head. "Three days and plan officially starts." She sat down on the rowing machine, grabbing the ropes with both hands. "Once the shit hits the fan, we'll be in the White House. Ten more days of Walker's reign."

"He'll never see it coming." Meechum smirked.

"No one will see this coming." James grinned before pushing off.

* * *

Francis leaned back on the couch, taking in all the information that Claire had just unloaded onto him. "Ten days? Ten days and the Oval Office is ours."

"That's her plan." Claire stated, intertwining her fingers with his. "What do you think?"

"It's quite brilliant, actually." Francis nodded, running a hand down his face. "It's evil, conniving, unexpected. She's got every piece of evidence where it needs to be. I just have one question."

Claire pulled her legs up onto the couch, curling them underneath her. "What's that?"

Francis turned to look his wife dead in the eyes, all amusement and pride gone from his own. "How is she going to get the physical evidence for herself?" He groaned when Claire gave him a look that told him to be smarter than he wanted to be at the moment. "This is crazy. We can't let her do this just to get us into the White House."

"She's already done it, Francis." Claire stated flatly, playing with the ends of her hair.

"You told me straight up last night that Meechum hadn't touched her!" Francis boomed as he stood up, nearly whipping himself onto the next couch with the force. "Of all the people- I'm going to have that boy fired."

Claire let him rant before she corrected him. "It wasn't Meechum."

Francis frowned, looking down at the floor lost in thought. "Who else... Doug?"

"They've been seeing each other for months." Claire explained, standing up herself. "They love each other, Francis. She assured me last night was the first time they had done anything."

"You just said she's been seeing him for months. That means she's been lying for months. Why do you believe her now?" Francis asked.

Claire kept her voice calm, hoping he'd lower his own voice. "There was evidence of it. And, she's our daughter. Francis, I know it hurts. I feel it with you. But, I know when she's telling me the truth. We both felt off when she told us the plan in the kitchen. We both knew it wasn't the full story. She hasn't really been lying to us. She's just been hiding the truth." She stood closer to him when she felt him calm down a little. "We can't really get mad at her for doing something she's learned from us."

"Watch me." Francis nearly growled.

* * *

James tossed her finished apple into the garbage, hoisting herself up onto the counter afterwards. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything." Meechum replied. He moved his body between her legs, his palms pressing against the counter top on either side of her.

"Do you think my family is evil?" James asked.

Meechum looked down at the pattern on her skirt, letting his fingers run over the lines. "Sometimes. Mostly your father. What you're doing is to protect potential other victims. You're just going about it a way I couldn't possibly fathom to think of." He started pulling up the hem of her skirt. "Like I said before, I take pride in protecting people who are going to benefit society."

James smiled, scooting closer to the edge. "You think I'm going to benefit society?"

"I know you are, Mrs. Future President." Meechum smiled before kissing her. James lifted up her hips when he tugged at the material around her waist. Bunching her skirt up further, Meechum moved his hands to his own zipper.

* * *

Francis nearly tore the front door of the hinges before bolting upstairs towards his daughter's room. "Meechum, get out!" He yelled entering the bedroom. Meechum scurried out of the room before Claire walked in gracefully, closing the door quietly behind her. James sat on her bed, clearly waiting for the argument that Francis could contain. "What the hell were you thinking?"

James crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm not aiming to get pregnant, if that's what you're hinting at."

"Oh my God." Francis groaned, covering his face with his hands. "Of all the people on this planet, you go out with Doug."

James rolled her eyes. "You trust him enough to watch me by himself, but now you can't fathom the idea of me actually wanting to be with him." She stood up from the bed, gaining some leverage instead of being looked down on. "I understand that you are not happy."

Francis huffed. "That's an understatement."

"But, out of all the people on this planet, I chose Doug. Someone that you have known for years, someone you trust, and someone you would rather fight for that toss aside." James continued. "If I dated a guy that you didn't like, you would have no problem destroying him and any chance of a relationship between us."

Claire sat down on the mattress between the two, hoping to be help at some middle ground. "Smart."

"Excuse me?" Francis asked, glaring down at his wife.

Claire glared right back at him. "Francis, you can't deny that you would tear apart any boy that you don't see fit to be with James. Doug is our friend. You wouldn't tear him down unless he was going to tear us down. She picked someone that you couldn't touch."

Francis groaned. "Unbelievable."

"Let me ask you something." James asked. "Does my decision to date Doug make you love me any less or think of me any differently?"

Francis bit the inside of his cheek, choking back the words he wanted to scream. "Of course, it doesn't."

James shrugged. "So, why is it such a big deal? I get that he's older and the fact that I haven't been upfront about it for a while, but you would have thrown our relationship to the wolves before we even had a chance to consider a relationship. We both knew it was wrong, but... we couldn't stop it." She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Daddy, I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't think it was right for me."

"Exactly, why do you think this is right for you? Doug is my Chief of Staff." Francis questioned her.

James chuckled. "Yes, but he won't be that forever. You won't be the President forever, Dad. Doug is a few years younger than you, and he won't be ready to leave the office when you do. You'll have your eight years. Mom will have hers. I will reach the minimum age when you two leave. That's twenty-four years of Underwood."

"Or, eight years of Stamper." Claire reminded her daughter. "If you plan to be with him that long, you will probably end up marrying him."

Francis cringed. "Don't even mention that. She's not even halfway through high school."

"Francis, she has accomplished more in her political career than either of us had at her age." Claire stated. "Her age may be part of the question when it comes to the law, but, in this family, she is ready to be running a whole department of government. She's always known what she's wanted, and we haven't questioned her before now. I think we're letting this get a little too far out of hand."

"A little too far out of hand?" Francis asked with raised eyebrows. "Claire, she just slept with Doug, and now she plans to sleep with Meechum. Either one could go to prison for even touching her because of her age." He turned his attention to James, his finger pointed directly at her. "Meechum is going home tonight."

James shrugged again. "Fine by me."

"I don't care-" Francis stopped himself, focusing on his daughter once more. "What do you mean?"

James rolled her eyes. "What do you think I mean?"

Claire grabbed Francis by the arm when he went to run after Meechum. "Francis, stop."

"Two guys in less than twenty-four hours." Francis spat. He grabbed the chair in the corner and whipped it off of its leg, making it skid across the floor. "If this gets out-"

"It won't." James stated. "Doug would never betray me. Meechum... well, I think my plan speaks for itself."

Claire gently pushed Francis away from the door, hoping to guard him from the rest of the house. "Let's just take a breath, maybe some space. This is a stressful situation that we are trying to take care of. There was bound to be some things we weren't thrilled with. We just need to remember why we are doing this and who is the cause of all of this. They will all be taken care of soon."

Francis glared between the two. "I don't want Doug or Meechum staying over here anymore."

"Okay." James nodded in agreement.

Claire grabbed Francis' wrist when he stepped towards James. "Don't you even think of laying a finger on her."

Francis ripped his hand away from her. "If you don't want anyone touching her, I'd focus on the two people who were inside of her today." Without a glance to James, he left the room, slamming the door behind him.

"He's right, you know." Claire said, turning to her daughter. "You should've told us about this from the very beginning. I'm not talking about you and Doug. I'm talking about this whole plan of yours."

"You would've stopped me just because of today." James reminded her. "I didn't want you two to stand in my way."

Claire looked down at the floor, shaking her head. "Tell me you at least used protection. You don't need to repeat my mistakes."

James nodded her head. "Of course." She crossed her arms over her chest. "I already ate. You two won't have to deal with me for the rest of the night."

"Alright." Claire breathed. "Goodnight then."

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	23. Chapter 23

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"No!"

Francis shot up in bed, thrusting his arm in front of Claire protectively. "What was that?"

"I think that was James." Claire whispered, swinging her legs over the bed.

"James!" Francis called jogging out of the room and hurrying to his daughter's. He hurried over to her thrashing body on the bed. "James, honey, wake up."

James screamed, her hands white knuckling her blanket. "Stop!"

"It's a night terror." Claire said hurrying over herself.

"Go turn on her shower." Francis demanded before picking up his daughter, holding her tight to his chest to avoid dropping her. She started sobbing when Francis walked into the shower with Claire, getting James under the cold water. "James, darlin', wake up. You got to wake up." He sat down on the tile floor, pushing the dripping hair away from her face. Once he saw her blue eyes, he motioned for Claire to turn the water off. "She's awake."

Claire sat down beside Francis, wiping away the tears from her daughter's face. "It's okay, James. You're safe."

Francis felt James begin to tremble before hugging her back to his chest, feeling her arms wrap around one of his. "We've got you, darlin'." He kissed the back of her head while Claire pressed her forehead to James'. "We're going to correct this, baby. We're going to get through this."

* * *

"Francis?" Claire whispered, rubbing his shoulder. "Francis, wake up."

Francis groaned before opening his eyes and finding Claire standing above him, a dress already adorning her small frame. "What time is it?"

"Almost six-thirty. We need to get going to the White House." Claire sighed, brushing her fingers against his cheek. She glanced at their daughter, curled up into Francis' arms like a small child would with their favorite blanket. "Meechum is already here."

"I don't want him here." Francis nearly growled before pulling James closer to his chest. "She's exhausted, Claire. I don't want to leave her alone like this."

Claire pursed her lips together. "He's already been told that he will be outside guarding the patio today. One of the other guys will watch her the way we originally intended Meechum to. As for leaving," she gently moved a strand of James' hair behind her ear, "I agree with you."

Francis smiled looking back at James. "Remember when she was little and she would always sneak into our bed in the middle of the night because she wanted me to tell her those scary stories before bed?"

"Of course. I had nightmares from some of those stories. I'm surprised she never wet the bed because of them." Claire stated, sitting down on the edge of the bed behind Francis. "What about it?"

"I wish that was the reason she was in here last night." Francis breathed. He intertwined his fingers with Claire's. "I can't stay mad at her, can I?"

Claire smiled sadly. "You never could."

Francis huffed out a breath. "Everything we've worked so hard to protect her from has all happened in a matter of a couple months. We've failed her, Claire. We saw that last night."

"That was a night terror caused by Gordon's actions." Claire stated. "She's, now, a sixteen year old year who is going to make her own choices and not tell us about them. Obviously, we haven't failed her. She's coming back stronger, and she's standing up for herself and others. Our parenting couldn't have been all bad." She chuckled seeing Francis roll his eyes. "Look at how far we've come. She's in a prestigious school, nearly top of her class. There's a bright future waiting for her, and she's not living in a cardboard box or starving."

"Thank God we made enough money before she outgrew her crib." Francis smiled. "Or, at least, what we called her crib."

Claire laughed. "It was a drawer from your childhood dresser. We lined it with a pillow and blankets, and it sat on the floor right beside our mattress that didn't have a bed frame." She rubbed his chest soothingly. "We bought her a real crib before we put a working sink into our kitchen." She felt his fingers squeeze hers. "We haven't done so bad." She smiled when she saw James open her eyes. "Morning."

"Morning." James rasped, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "What are you two talking about? I was dreaming about something and then somebody started talking about a drawer."

Francis chuckled kissing her forehead. "We were just talking about what life was like before the politics took over. You used to sleep in a drawer because we couldn't afford a crib."

James frowned. "I didn't know we were poor."

"Well, we weren't exactly poor. All of our money went towards your father's campaign. That's the only way your father would take the money that your grandpa offered to us." Claire explained, smirking at Francis. "We didn't just want to take his money. We wanted him to invest in us. And, that's what he did."

James smiled with a yawn. "Who knew that the world would forever change when you two met?"

Claire smirked. "Your grandfather would've adored you. How are you feeling, baby?" She asked as James sat up with Francis. They both fawned over her as she rubbed her tired eyes again. "Do you feel sick or anything?"

James shook her head. "No, I feel okay." She laid her head on Francis' shoulder. "I'm just tired."

Francis kissed her head. "Well, you sleep as long as you need to, darlin'. We need to head into the White House for a little bit, but we will check up on you and let you know when we are on our way home."

"We have already talked to the guys outside. They have strict orders not to let Meechum or Doug into the house without supervision. Meechum will not be watching you today. Brighton is downstairs. He'll watch you today. He also has orders to make sure you are eating and doing your workout, along with your homework now that the police have returned it. He will not hang out with you the way that Meechum did." Claire explained. "Now that we know you like older men, we are on guard."

James frowned. "Well, that's no fun. I'm going to be bored all day."

Francis smirked. "Exactly." He cupped her face in one of his hands, against his shoulder. "That's the point. Now, go back to sleep. If you need anything, call us. Even if it's just to talk, we'll be there."

"Alright." James sighed before receiving a kiss on the cheek from Claire. "What time do you think you'll be home?"

"If you want us back here, we'll come home. It will not be a problem." Claire said before standing up. "Sleep tight."

* * *

Claire sat awkwardly between the two men beside her. On her left, Francis was livid, barely containing his desire to kill the other one. On her right, Doug sat looking straight ahead, ready to hear whatever was spoken and shake it off without a second thought. "I think we should concentrate on our goals and hash out this problem later."

"I can't wait that long." Francis gritted out.

Doug turned towards Francis. "Sir-"

"How could you do this? You've watched her grow up. You once told me she was like a daughter to you!" Francis yelled as he stood up. He grabbed one of the small trinkets on his desk and flung it across the room. "She is my daughter!"

Doug stood up as well. "I said that when she was five. And, I basically raised her that year when you were campaigning. I tucked her in at night while you were busy reading your speeches. I said that then. Now, it's different."

Claire cleared her throat. "You still should've told us."

"I agree with that. I wanted to get it out in the open right away. I wanted to tell you we kissed that first time when we still were telling ourselves that this is wrong. James stopped me. She reminded me that any person who comes within breathing distance of her never has a chance to have a life after the wrath of Frank Underwood." Doug explained. He pulled out a packet of papers from his back pocket. "This is my letter of resignation." He dropped it onto the coffee table. "I will see this plan through to get back at Gordon Walker. After that, you can decide whether or not you want me gone."

Francis didn't even glance at the papers. "Do you want to resign?"

Doug smirked. "No, but I will if it means it makes James happy." He pointed his finger to Francis. "I would just remember that I helped build you, build this. I'm helping you become President. Other than my relationship with James, I have been a loyal friend and colleague to you for over twenty years. I can just as easily tear you down with everything I have seen you do."

"You would do that. Tear a father away from his daughter?" Francis asked with a small smile, not believing the words that came out of his mouth. "I thought you wanted to make James happy."

Doug nodded. "I do. We both make her happy. If she can't have both of us, she can only have one of us. I'd rather that be me."

"Do you honestly think she'd chose you over me?" Francis asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "You'd have to be out of your mind to think that James would do such a thing."

"She doesn't have to." Doug stated. "If I take care of the problem of us working together, I can kill two birds with one stone."

Francis stepped closer to Doug, nearly chest to chest. "I can take you down with me."

Doug smiled. "Then, I believe we have an understanding."

"Not quite yet." Francis retorted. "If you so much as hurt my daughter in any way, mental or physical, I will not hesitate to take the lenses from your glasses and shove them into your skull. I will make you feel a pain much worse than you could ever imagine. And if you get my daughter pregnant, I will personally castrate you myself. Are we clear?" He didn't even let Doug open his mouth. "Good."

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	24. Chapter 24

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"You really said that?" James asked before rinsing out her glass. "To my father."

Doug sighed. "I said every word." He glanced around his office. "I'll be lucky if I'm alive by the end of this."

"Daddy wouldn't kill you unless you were of no use to him anymore. That won't happen in this lifetime." James stated, walking back into the living room to go through the rest of her homework. "It's so boring being cooped up in this house. I was at least entertained when someone would be there to do stuff with me."

"Well, you won't have to deal with it for much longer." Doug smiled, leaning back in his chair. "Are you still planning on going back to school tomorrow?"

James sat down on the couch, looking down at the scar that now covered most of her leg. She lightly traced her finger over it. "I'm sick of hiding out and feeling useless. Once everything hits the fan, it'll be over before we know it. Besides, I'm kind of looking forward to it."

Doug grinned. "So am I." He saw the number of flashing lights on his phone. "I better go. If I don't, people are going to think I've gone missing." He hunched himself over his desk, stretching his arm out to the buttons. "I'll see you soon."

"See you soon." James smiled before hanging up her phone.

* * *

James giggled watching Francis type a text out. His glasses sat at the end of his nose, and he had his held tilted back in order to look through them correctly. "Who are you talking to?"

"I'm getting arrangements ready with Doug. I'll need to be prepared for my first day as President soon." Francis smirked before setting his phone down. He glanced back into the kitchen to find Claire. "Are you going to join us, Claire?"

Claire walked up behind him, kissing his cheek. "I was just on my way in." She sat down with her plate of food, curling up on her own chair. "So, do you know what time you'll be meeting with Doug tomorrow?"

"Daddy said that he will be coming around eleven. That way there will be time for a news team to come in and do a live feed at lunch." James explained before taking another bite of her dinner. "Meechum and Brighton will stand outside the bathroom door. Doug and I will get away before Meechum will make the suggestion to check on me."

"She'll stay at Meechum's until we're ready to move in on Gordon." Francis said, chewing his food roughly.

Claire glanced at James. "And, you're letting her go through with it."

Francis' gaze remained locked on the laptop in front of him. "If I had to choose between Meechum and Gordon, I'd rather Meechum have her for a week than Gordon terrorize my daughter for the rest of her life." He turned over a page, the paper now covering the majority of the table. "Just imagine her Presidency."

"Three Presidents are sitting at this very table." James smirked behind her glass.

Claire smiled as well. "And, the reign of Underwood begins."

* * *

"Welcome back to class, James." Mr. Turner said with a warm smile. James nodded back before taking her seat. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

"Thanks, Mr. Turner." James replied before glancing at Meechum and Brighton by the doorway. "But, I think I'll be okay."

Mr. Turner winked at her before turning his attention back to the paperwork on his desk. James relaxed into her seat before Gordon walked up behind her and shoved her shoulders slightly. "Good to see you back, Underwood."

James saw Meechum's jaw clenching and held up her hand to warn him. "Buzz off, Walker. There are plenty of witnesses here."

"So, you do remember?" Gordon smirked, sitting in the desk behind her. "I was really beginning to wonder if you really did forget that night. It was special, wasn't it?"

"It was." James smirked. "It was the beginning to your end." She turned to him, tapping his nose with her pencil. "I'll make sure you get your twenty-one salute."

Gordon frowned and snatched the pencil out of her hands. "I told you that you can't touch me. I'm that dangerous, James. I will come after you, and I told you that."

"There's just one thing you forgot, Gordon." James said innocently, shaking her head. "I'm just as dangerous." She saw the smirk drop from his lips. The glare he gave her made her skin crawl, but she wasn't backing down. "You feed off of your father's power with no real goals of your own. You've never had to make goals for yourself. Your father never pushed you to make something of yourself."

"Like your father is so perfect. At least my parents wanted me. I've heard Frank talk about how much he hates kids." Gordon scoffed.

James rolled her eyes. "Do you think that my father would just let life happen to him if he didn't want something to happen? He didn't want me. He didn't want me to exist so I wouldn't have to face people like you. But, he kept me, because he loved me. He knew that I would make something of myself, unlike you."

Gordon traced over her clavicle with his pencil. "What exactly do you plan on doing that has you praising that Daddy of yours?"

"I'll let you know when I give my inauguration speech." James said swiping the pencil away from him.

* * *

Francis licked his lips before kissing his way up Claire's stomach, her skin tight with goosebumps. A chill went down his own spine when he laid his palms down on the cool wood of his desk. "When was the last time I did that?"

"Too long ago to even recall." Claire hummed, the feeling coming back to her legs. She gasped when she felt his hardened member, constrained by his slacks, pressing against her thigh.

"I'll take care of it myself." Francis drawled out, his kisses now becoming sloppy. "We don't need to be as obvious about our sex life as Clinton."

Claire ran her fingers through his hair. "Then, you should wipe off your chin." She grabbed a tissue off his desk before wiping away the last drops of her from his face. "We should be on our way to the Oval office right now anyway."

Francis picked up her dress from the floor and let her step into it once she stood from the desk. "I don't know if I want the story to break there. I don't want to give him the chance to keep this story quiet."

"Are you saying that you want press there to record it?" Claire asked, turning her back to him.

Francis zipped up the dress, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. "No, but we do need a few witnesses who can speak against Walker if he fights to keep his seat as President. The Vice President's daughter kidnapped while in the care of the President's Secret Service, it doesn't make a good headline for him."

Claire nodded. "He'll want to keep it quiet, or at least monitor the story."

"If he does, we can speak out. If he releases the story, he will show resistance, and that will be a bad call with Cathy and Jackie Sharp." Francis stated before seeing his cell phone in Claire's raised hand. He kissed her cheek when she grinned. "I'll call them right now."

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	25. Chapter 25

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James glanced up at the clock just before the bell rang out. Standing up, she gathered her things and walked over to Meechum and Brighton. "I need to use the restroom before my next class."

Meechum nodded once before he and Brighton followed her out to the hallway. "We'll stand by the door." He said before opening the door to the ladies room, glancing around to see only a few girls inside. "Be careful." He whispered before letting her inside.

James passed the few girls from the classes above hers before slipping into one of the stalls. She opened her backpack and fished out her cell phone, sending a quick text to Francis and Claire, before tossing it into the toilet. When she heard the rest of the girls leave the bathroom, she flushed the device down the drain and hurried back out to Meechum.

"What's your next class?" Meechum asked, resting his hand on the small of her back. It was quickly swatted away by Brighton, the other secret service member in charge of watching her.

"Home EC." James smiled slightly, her eyes catching Meechum's as they all walked through the halls towards her classroom.

* * *

Francis and Claire walked hand in hand into the Oval with Cathy and Jackie in stride behind them. They each smiled at Garret, three of them unaware of how horribly wrong this meeting was going to go.

Garret extended his arms in a welcome, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "Thanks for coming in. Please, sit down." He straightened the front of his jacket before walking around his desk. His attention turned to Francis. "Before we make this all about business, how is James doing, Frank?"

"She just texted us. She is happy to be back to good use at school." Francis chuckled, sitting down on the couch with Claire. "She was going stir crazy at the house. She couldn't even sit still long enough to have Claire paint her toe nails."

"I'll say." Cathy piped in. "She had that application faxed to my office two hours after the police gave it back to her. She's geared up for a political career. That's for sure."

Garret smirked and nudged on Francis's shoulder. "Planting your daughter in the State Department, huh?"

Francis shrugged. "I didn't know about it until Cathy came to our house with the application. This was all her idea." He felt Claire gently nudge him herself, barely noticeable to the others in the room. "But, let's move this along, shall we?"

* * *

James felt Gordon's eyes on her as she worked on the frosting they had to prepare for the cake. She glanced at the teacher, seeing his attention elsewhere, before speaking. "If you don't get your ass working, I will make sure it never works again, Walker."

"I'd be careful with that attitude of yours. There are more knives here than I know what to do with." Gordon smirked before purposely reaching across her, pushing his body against her, to grab the dye from the counter. "Excuse me." He snickered as he turned and went to work making another colored frosting.

James glanced back up at the teacher. He was sitting at his desk, looking through his computer. Moving discreetly as possible, James grabbed the pack of matches and lit one before walking around Gordon, dropping the lit match into the garbage can beside him, before walking over to the teacher. His attention quickly abandoned his computer when she reached his desk. "Hello, Mr. Davis."

"Hello, Ms. Underwood. It is nice to have you back in class today." Mr. Davis smiled before he turned his palms up and clasped them together. "What can I do for you?"

James pulled a paper out of her pocket and unfolded it. "I'm supposed to collect each of my teacher's signatures for the time I missed."

Mr. Davis rolled his eyes. "I can't believe they are making you do that." He gently took the paper from her and grabbed a pen when another student yelled out.

"FIRE!"

Everyone turned to see Gordon mindlessly going through his phone while the garbage can three feet away was quickly melting from the flames. Another student hurried over and pulled on the fire alarm, sounding out sirens throughout the entire school.

Mr. Davis stood up, dropping everything as he pointed to the door. "Everyone, go to our assigned exit and wait there. Stay calm and no running!" He rushed over to his cabinets, looking for his fire extinguisher, as everyone rushed out to the hallway.

Students from all over the school and flooded the hallways, hurrying to the nearest escape to the outdoors. James stepped out into the hallway and quickly disappeared into the crowd before Brighton could see her and escort her to her safety. She smirked seeing Gordon only a few feet in front of her.

James kept herself deep in the sea of her peers as they hurried out to the parking lot, wedging themselves between cars and climbing onto the fence surrounding them. She quickly made her way to the only car without plates on the lot, seeing Doug laying inside on the seat with a weird choice in disguise. It was far enough from the school that only a few students stood nearby.

She stood still as she watched students continue to pour out of the school and Doug gently opened the back door, slow enough not to alarm anyone who may be watching. When he reached the point of no return, he shoved the door open and grabbed James by the waist, yanking her inside the vehicle. "HEY!" She yelled out before he slammed the door shut and scrambled to the front seat.

Doug tried to not smile when James started pounding on the windows, some of the students nearby now rushing over to try and help. He nearly pulled a muscle flipping the car into drive and whipping out of the parking lot, grazing and scratching a number of parked cars along the way. He glanced behind him, seeing James now pressing herself against the back window. "Do you think anyone noticed it was a fake?"

"Not a chance." James said before turning to him with a smile as he sped out of the school zone.

* * *

Garret sighed as he looked over the report in his lap, taking in everything that Francis, Cathy, and Jackie had to offer as a good deal for most parties involved. He bit his nail and shook his head once, almost as if he were thinking of something else entirely and he needed to remind himself to get back on task. "I think we should move this forward with the way it is. I don't want any second drafts or hours to make this more of a mess. Let's get this done as quickly as possible."

There was a quick knock on the door before the director of the secret service walked in. He looked pale, deathly pale, as he rushed into the room without permission to. "What is the meaning of this? You can't just barge in here." Garret complained.

"I'm sorry, sir. But, it was too important to wait." The director stated before turning to Francis and Claire. "Vice President, Mrs. Underwood, I need you two to come with me."

"What's this about?" Claire asked as she moved to the edge of the couch.

Francis shook his head. "Director, what could be so important that you disobeyed the President?"

The director seemed to debate something over in his head for a moment. "I really think we should step away from this meeting."

"Nonsense. What could possibly be so terrible that I wouldn't want my friends to know?" Francis said, gesturing to the people around the room. "If my life is in danger, they need to know."

"It's your daughter." The director blurted out, seeing the shock hit everyone in the room. "There was an incident at the school. The students were evacuated. Students saw James get yanked into a car before it peeled out of the parking lot."

Claire's lip trembled as she gripped Francis's hand with both of hers, her eyes welling up as Francis spoke. "Where is she now?"

The director gulped, the Adam's apple in his throat bobbing. "We're not sure." He quickly held up his hands to avoid a blow up. "When the students were evacuated, Meechum and Brighton lost sight of her. By the time they got out to the parking lot, the car was speeding away. I assure you. We will find your daughter."

Francis teared up as well, pulling Claire closer to his side. "Thank you, Director."

The director stood awkwardly for a moment before excusing himself outside the Oval. Garret sat motionless as did Cathy and Jackie, all overwhelmed and shocked by the recent turn of events. Garret was the first to speak. "Francis, I think it's time you and Claire came and stayed here. I will feel much better if you two aren't alone during this time."

"We wouldn't want to impose." Claire nearly whispered, dapping her eyes with a tissue, even with more still forming in the corners of her eyes.

"It would be no trouble at all. We want to remain a united front." Garret stated. "We need to keep this story as quiet and clean as possible. We don't want to dirty the name of the secret service."

Francis glared at Garret. "How can you say that? Our daughter is missing because the secret service failed to protect her."

Cathy cleared her throat. "I happen to agree with Francis on this one, Mr. President. Not only is the sweet child my goddaughter, but she is a political pawn. She was already attacked with motives, police believe, are nothing but abusive." She stood up. "We need to break this story everywhere, so everyone will be watching. James is a well known daughter here in Washington. If anyone sees her, they will give us tips on where to find her."

"I agree. Keeping this story quiet will only look worse when the truth eventually comes out." Jackie added. "The truth always comes out, Mr. President. Whether we want it to or not."

Garret clenched his jaw and nodded once. "I guess I'm not one to say no." He stood up and walked back around his desk. "Go gather your things, pack a few bags. I'll have someone set you two up in a room.

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	26. Chapter 26

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James slipped the sweatshirt over her head in the backseat of Doug's car while he let the getaway car drive itself into the river. She took the pocket knife from his counsel and cut her school uniform skirt down the side before tossing it out the window onto the loose rock underneath the car. She slid herself down between the passenger seat and the backseat so she was sitting on the floor.

Doug ran over and got into the car before looking back at her. "You have enough room?"

"Yeah, I'll be good until we get to your apartment." James breathed before grabbing the blanket from his backseat and covering herself with it. "Have you heard anything?"

"No, I told your dad I'd call him once we were in a safe zone. We don't need my cell phone pinging here." Doug breathed before turning on his car and speeding away from the riverbanks, heading back to the city. "How does it feel?"

James frowned, curling further into the blanket and making herself as comfortable as she possibly could. "How does what feel?"

"To be this much closer to being the First Daughter." Doug smirked back at her. He turned back to the road and pulled back onto the blacktop before grabbing his prepaid phone and dialing. He cleared and changed his voice before speaking. "Yes, I have some information on the James Underwood kidnapping."

* * *

"The river?" Claire asked, wide eyed. Francis had his arm wrapped around her waist, and she had tissues tucked into her hands, dabbing the corners of her eyes every few minutes. "They dumped the car in the river."

"Yes, we got a call from the anonymous tip line. A guy was driving behind the car and noticed it looked similar to the one that was described in our public statement. He made the call, but he even doubted it was the right car." The police commissioner explained.

Francis frowned. "But, it was their car, right?"

The commissioner sighed with a slight nod. "We believe so."

Claire gasped and covered her mouth with the hand that was gripping tissues already. "It can't be."

"There's one other thing." The commissioner added. He took a file from one of his detectives and held it out to them. "Does this look familiar to you?"

"Oh my God!" Claire cried out, gripping onto Francis' jacket lapels. She let her body sink into a crouching position with Francis following.

Francis teared up himself and caressed her face as she quietly sobbed looking away. "That's part of the school uniform. James wears those skirts nearly everyday. She was wearing one this morning." He breathed before pulling Claire closer, crouching himself. "Could we have a few moments, please?"

"Of course." The commissioner said and motioned for his men to clear Francis' office. They all shared silent looks of sympathy as they left the office, closing the door behind them.

Francis and Claire both looked at the door when they heard it click shut. "Have you heard from Doug?" Claire asked, wiping away the last of her tears with the tissue. She huffed out a breath and lowered herself further, curling her legs under herself.

"No, not yet." Francis heaved out as he sat back against the couch. "The school uniform was a nice touch." He ran a hand down his face and took her hand into his, squeezing it gently. "But, Garret did call saying the Brighton and Meechum will be under investigation about the incident. James can't stay at his apartment."

Claire let out a breath of a laugh. "She probably knew that too. Our smart, devious little girl." Francis grinned at her and leaned forward, resting his head against her shoulder, grateful for the moment without the chaos lingering just outside his office door. "Sing to me." She whispered.

Francis grinned and pulled back, looking her in the eyes. "What would you like to hear?"

"I think you could come up with something, _Mr. President_." Claire smirked, her eyebrow cocking for a moment.

Francis chuckled and maneuvered himself to sit next to her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, her head landing on his shoulder. Instead of singing, he started humming. He hummed _Hail to the Chief_ and held his wife next to him as they sat on the floor, waiting for the rest of the world to be singing it for his arrival.

* * *

James grunted when she landed on her side, groaning out before she saw the first rays of light come through. Doug quickly pulled at the zipper of his suitcase, helping James out when he flipped open the cover. "You okay?"

"Just peachy." James chuckled as she stepped out of the bag and looked around the apartment. Doug hurried to move the empty bag to his room as she pulled the sweatshirt over her head. "It's been a while since I've been here."

"I know. Since in attack actually." Doug said, half mumbling the last few words. He gazed at her, his eyes softening slightly. "My bad on that."

James felt her heart clench painfully as she walked over to him. "You didn't cause this, Doug." She whispered, caressing his cheek. She pressed her forehead to his, grazing her lips against his. "It breaks my heart when you say things like that, when you think things like that."

"You know none of this would have happened if I didn't flip out on you about Gordon." Doug stated. He cupped her face in both his hands, tilting her face up slightly to look eye to eye. "I knew that you wouldn't cheat on me. And, I know that you will put yourself in harm's way just to prove a point."

James tugged on his shirt gently, her fingers skimming the leather of his belt. "I made the choice to accept his offer. You didn't force that on me. You haven't forced me into anything." She leaned forward and kissed him again, this time longer, harder. His lips moved against hers, but his hands stayed on her face. She moved one hand up his chest, wrapping her fingers around his neck. The other hand quickly moved the zipper to his slacks and reached inside.

Doug groaned against her, his hips bucking into her hand. His hands pulled away from her face and moved to the hem of her tank top. He pulled it up and over her head, but it hung on her wrist. Her hand hadn't bothered to pull out of his pants to let the material drop to the floor. Her other hand moved to his belt while both of his occupied themselves with the buttons of his dress shirt.

He quickly discarded it, happy to have his hands back on her heated skin. "James?"

His slacks fell to the floor. He stepped out of them, kicking off his shoes and socks in the process. He thumbs grazed the lace of her panties, grunting when he realized that other than the sweatshirt his girlfriend had only been in this the entire time he was with her. "You knew."

James nodded between kisses. "Please, Doug, fuck me."

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	27. Chapter 27

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James moaned and shuddered as Doug's tongue dove deep inside of her one last time. His hands moved from her thighs and his body started moving back up hers under the sheet. She chuckled when his head popped out and grinned up at her. "Hello."

"Hello to you too." James laughed. She grunted when he kissed her, her juices still on his tongue. "Do you think we could do this professionally? I don't know if I ever want to leave this room."

Doug grinned and rolled off of her, laying down beside her. "As much as I would love that, you and I are both way too invested in our careers to even look into that." He linked his fingers with hers.

"True." James sighed before pushing herself up and straddling Doug. She lowered herself onto him, letting out a high pitched groan when he was completely inside of her. "But, we're great at multitasking."

"So, this." Doug grunted, bucking up into her. James moaned and nodded her agreement before she leaned down and kissed him hard.

* * *

Francis pinched the bridge of his nose as he listened to the third ring, again. He was about to hang up when Doug's voice filtered through the phone. "Yes, sir?"

"Where have you been? I've been trying to get a hold of you all afternoon." Francis closed his eyes when he heard a girlish giggle on the other end of the call. "Don't answer that question. Is she alright? She's with you."

"She's here. We're safe." Doug confirmed as he watched James stand up from his bed and pull on his shirt. She started messing around with her mused hair as she looked in his mirror. "So far, everything is in place."

Francis sighed in relief. "Good, can I talk to her?" There was a moment of silence before he heard the difference in breathing over the speaker. "James?"

"Hey, Daddy." James smiled, sitting down on the end of the bed. She felt Doug wrap his arms around her waist, laying on his stomach behind her. She rubbed his arm that had secured itself over her stomach. "Is the country still functioning without their future President?"

Francis chuckled. "The story hits the news in an hour. Until then, the people will be blissfully unaware that you have disappeared." He ran a hand down his face. "Garrett invited us to stay in the White House, so we'll be here indefinitely."

James grinned. "I should be there in a couple of days. It won't take long for Garrett to extend his invitation to Doug." She bit her lip, pondering over her next words. "I know you aren't thrilled about all of this."

"Well, I won't be throwing you a parade for this." Francis chuckled. "You knew that Garrett would keep Meechum here for review until this issue was resolved. You knew that you'd have to stay with Doug."

"I did." James breathed, squeezing Doug's arm reassuringly. "I love three people in this world, and you and Mom are two of them. There's no way I could stay with either of you two during this whole fiasco." She smiled when she felt Doug's lips pressing against her back. "How are things going on your end?"

Francis smirked. "Just as planned. Your mother is upset that it isn't a bigger deal than it already is on the news." He glanced behind him at Claire who was switching between the news outlets that covered the story. "We're trying to get Garrett tied up in this mess. If he's caught somehow connected to Gordon outside of being his father, the country will murder him at the stake." He started unbuttoning his shirt. "How are you holding up?"

James shrugged her shoulders. "For being kidnapped, I'm doing just fine. As great as this next chapter is going to be, I miss how simple things were a couple months ago." She smiled when Doug rested his head against her stomach. She cupped the side of his face in her hand, caressing his cheek. "They aren't ever going to be that way again."

"Probably not, but, you and I, our family, that will never change, darlin'." Francis breathed into the receiver. He felt a warm hand rest on his shoulder and reached up and tangle his fingers with Claire's. "Even if this all blows up in our faces and we have to hide ourselves in Russia, we will never change. But, I don't want you to think like that. I need my confident daughter in order for all of this to work."

James bit her lip with a grin. "She's been ready since this all started."

* * *

Francis sat behind his desk while Meechum and Brighton sat across from him. Claire stood behind him, her hips resting against his desk as she turned her back to the two officers. She listened as Francis drummed his fingers against the wood of his desk. His other hand was pressed in a fist against his mouth. He looked like a man in agony, and it made her soul swell with pride with the man she married. "What happened?" She whispered, seeing Francis's lack of voice.

"It was chaos. We weren't prepared." Brighton said, his voice guilty but stern. "We were outside of the classroom when the fire alarm was pulled. Before we could get to James, the students were pouring out of every door. We lost her in the crowd. By the time we got outside, the car was already pulling out of the parking lot."

"Did they find the car?" Meechum asked, his stance rigid but his voice curious.

Francis removed his fist from his chin. "It was found at the bottom of the river." He slammed his fist against the desk and sprang out of his chair. "How did this happen?! You two were supposed to watch her! Three hours! Three hours she was at that school, and now she's missing. The last time this person got their hands on her, she almost died. She bled for twenty blocks. Now, this son of a bitch has her and all of DC knows it!"

Brighton stood as well. "There's no excuse, sir. We failed our duty to keep her safe. If anything happens to her, it will be my fault. And for that, there is not enough time to apologize." He clasped his hands in front of him. "I have a daughter of my own, and I cannot imagine what I would do in your situation."

"How old is your daughter?" Claire asked, her eyes gazing out the office windows. She hadn't looked at either of them, her eyes even avoiding Francis for this meeting.

"She's four." Brighton stated.

Claire smiled sadly. "Four. What I wouldn't give for my daughter to be four again." She hummed as if agreeing with herself. "When she was four, she started going to school. Do you know what I did?" She didn't let them respond. "I sat in my car every day until she was done and was released to go home. I could've gone to work. I knew where she was. But, I needed to see her. I parked my car in the same spot, outside her classroom. I could see her sit at her desk. I watched her go outside for recess and climb the jungle gym. I ran my business from my car that year." She stood up and walked over to the windows, looking out at the DC skyline. "Now, I can't see her. I don't even know where she is." She finally turned to the three men, tears in her eyes. "Make it up to us by finding her. Bring my baby home."

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	28. Chapter 28

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Claire bit her lip as she looked at the multiple news stories circulating around the internet about James' disappearance. She peered at Francis over her glasses when he emerged in his pajamas from the attached bathroom. "The media is going crazy with this. Look at this. Russian Spies Steal Underwood Daughter as Political Strategy."

"That wouldn't be a horrible idea." Francis sighed, but let out a chuckle. "I'd be willing to resign as President if it came to a choice of her life and something else." He sat down of the other side of the bed, his body relaxing on the mattress. "This is it, Clare. Our baby. . .she isn't just ours anymore. She's partially Doug's. And, I'm afraid of who she'll choose if it ever comes to that day."

Claire reached out and rubbed his back. "Francis, don't think like that. You can't work without Doug, and neither can this office. Besides, now is not the time to think about what ifs. It's just a weakness. A liability. Something we cannot afford in the position we're in. We can't let anything infiltrate what we've built, Francis. Not even Doug. At this point, he's an asset of ours, and an asset of James'. She knows what she's doing."

Francis laid back against the bed, glancing over at the laptop that sat open on her lap. "Walker invites Underwoods to White House. Underwood Kidnapper under the President's Nose." He grinned, humming his amusement. "These are good."

"The media works in mysterious ways." Claire chuckled. She leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Get some sleep. We need to be distraught parents tomorrow."

Francis slipped under the covers, waiting for Claire to join him as she powered down on computer. "She is our only weakness, Claire. Look at our careers over the years. Whenever somebody has tried to manipulate us, it's been over James. Her grades, her life, her bond with us as a daughter. Nearly every one of our enemies has tried to destroy her to destroy us."

Claire slid under his arm, resting her head on his shoulder. "That's what we're doing to Garrett."

"James is a good kid." Francis reminded her.

Claire rubbed his chest with her hand, sighing softly as she closed her eyes. "Despite all of those people, look at who our next President will be. Those people who wanted to end James, they will end at her mercy when she's in office. When we're all in office. . .they will beg." She felt his lips press against her hairline. "We've made it this far. We're close to the finish line."

"Then, we start over." Francis breathed.

* * *

Doug looked through his paperwork when James walked in and sat down next to him on the couch. She leaned close to him, resting her chin on his shoulder to look at the coffee table with his materials. "What's this for?"

"I'm trying to figure out how to get you into. . .well, you know, the best way possible without it really leading back to anybody but Gordon." Doug breathed, looking over his papers. "They have a gala in two days. With all those people inside the White House, attention around the President's residence will be lacking."

"If we make it look like a delivery truck could've brought me in, we'd just need something to tie me to it." James whispered. She glanced over the papers once more before running her thumb along Doug's jaw, catching his attention. "We don't need to figure this out now. It's almost midnight. Let's go to bed, spend as much time there as possible before this whole thing blows up and we're in the White House."

Doug grinned, kissing her hard, before pressing his forehead to hers. "Once this is all over, we'll have to distance ourselves around everyone. You'll need the recovery time, an adjustment period of sorts."

James smiled when he wrapped his arm around her, letting her curl into his side. He rested his chin on top of her head. "A girl always wants her hero around. It would look normal to everybody for me to want you around. We just need to watch our behavior. I'm still a minor by law, and the details that will be revealed will be horrifying."

"Are you sure it has to go that far? I get what we're doing is preparing for that, but-" Doug started, but James cut him off by cupping his face in her hands.

"It has to be this way."

* * *

"Our invitation has been forwarded. Garrett would like Doug to come stay at the White House as well to help us cope through this trying time." Claire smiled as she pressed Francis's phone to her ear. "Your father has taken this role on with enthusiasm. He can finally blow up at Garrett like he's wanted to for the past two years."

James chuckled as she sat on Doug's bed, looking at the media stories on his computer. "I'm glad I could give him an early birthday present." She clicked on a new story, seeing the bizarre headlines that seemed to be plaguing the internet. "Some journalists are really taking this story out of hand. I mean, 'James Underwood abducted by serial killer'. There isn't even proof that I've been killed."

Claire rolled her eyes. "I know. I've been ignoring my phone all day. Even some of the cabinet has been calling to ask what we know." She sat down on the bed, picking up her shoes and slipping them onto her feet. "The police have told us not to talk to anybody and or let them what we know. Since they know it's someone in the White House, they don't want to take chances with tipping off your kidnapper."

"If only they knew." James whispered before glancing over at Doug's sleeping form next to her. "We were looking at the gala as our point of entry."

"It would be easy to sneak something passed security, especially with the amount of people being invited to that. Garrett has invited us, but your father and I won't be attending the event." Claire agreed with her. She stood up and walked over to the window, looking out at the front lawn. "How are things going? I mean, I don't need the details, because I'm well aware of what you're doing, but how are you holding up?"

James closed Doug's laptop, leaning back against the headboard. "Right now, I'm happy, but I'm nervous to see Gordon again. I have a backup plan for my backup plan, and I'm not worried about it backfiring. It's just those few minutes where I'll be face to face with Gordon again."

Claire sucked in a deep breath. "It won't be easy. I can tell you that much." She moved the sheer curtain aside to see the crowd of people holding up signs for James outside the fence. "What about Meechum?"

"I've made my peace with it." James sighed before Doug moved closer to her, his eyes now fully open. He crawled over her legs, kissing her stomach through her shirt. His hands grabbed at both sides of her waist, causing him to moan when he realized his only barrier wasn't there. "At the end of the day, I won't regret that decision."

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	29. Chapter 29

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Francis and Garret walked up to the security check-in as Doug rolled his luggage up. "Doug, exactly how long do you think we'll be staying here?" Garret asked, seeing the large suitcase on wheels and the duffle dangling from his other hand.

"Just preparing for every occasion, Mr. President." Doug sighed. He glanced at Francis.

"Guys, let him through. He's practically my daughter's other half. He wouldn't hurt her." Francis said, motioning for Doug to bypass the security gates. The two guards looked unsure, but let Doug pass when Garret nodded his head. "Have you heard anything on the wire?"

Doug shook his head. "Nothing, sir. But, I couldn't sleep, so I took the chance to look through the media stories. Wrong move. They're really running with this." He stated as they started back towards the residence.

Garret clapped Doug's shoulder. "It didn't help that the police haven't found James's attacker yet. We know virtually nothing about this person, and he is holding her hostage. The reporters are trying to report something, even if it's just speculation." He glanced back when his name was called from down the hallway. "Excuse me. I'm sure Frank could show you where you'll be staying."

"Go on, Garret." Francis reassured him. When he was a safe distance away, he tugged on the lapels of his jacket. "Didn't get the State office, but I've apparently been hired as a tour guide now." He glanced down at the suitcase. "Is she?"

Doug nodded. "Let's get to the room.

* * *

James listened to her father and boyfriend talk to each other. When she heard a door close and felt the atmosphere change, she started poking around above her head. "Doug, get me out of here. It's like the Sahara Desert inside here."

She lowered her hands when she heard the zipper, light slowly creeping in. When the zipper was pulled all the way around and the flap was pulled open, she stretched her legs out of the suitcase, sighing in relief when her muscles could finally return to their relaxed positions. "Thank you." She breathed before standing up. When she saw Francis, she threw her arms around him, glad when his did the same. "Hi Daddy."

"Hey, Darlin'." Francis breathed into her hair, cupping the back of her head. He closed his eyes as he inhaled deeply, thankful that he was holding his baby girl once again. "Are you okay? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." James breathed before he pulled back, cupping her face in his hands. "I'm doing really well, actually. The leg doesn't even hurt anymore."

Francis smiled and kissed her forehead. "Good." He pulled her back to his chest before looking over to see Doug laying out his clothes and organizing his things. "I'm assuming you'll be staying in here."

Doug pressed his lips into a fine line before James spoke. "It's part of the plan." She stepped in front of Doug, keep Francis from staring daggers at him. "It's just for a few days. After tonight's party, the plan is set into motion. Doug already has a couple people working on this. It's going to work, Daddy. By Sunday night, you'll be preparing your first announcement as President."

"Well, I can't argue with those circumstances." Francis smirked. "I should probably go let your mother know you have arrived." He pulled away, pointing at both of them. "Make sure no one is the wiser. This whole thing blows up if someone finds her here."

"We've got the whole thing figured out." Doug nodded before gesturing to James. "We already picked up the last item we needed to pull this off." He pulled out a red tablecloth, wrapped in a plastic dry-cleaner bag. "Checkmate."

* * *

Claire walked out of the bathroom to find Francis putting on his cufflinks, adding the final touch to his black tux. He looked up at her and shook his head. "I can't believe Garret actually expects us to be down there at this gala tonight. He knows what's going on. Screw appearances for him. What about us? We'll look like fucking monsters going to a gala while the rest of the country thinks our daughter is being tortured and killed." He grimaced as the words fell from his lips. "God, that's just like vinegar."

"He told us to come. He never told us to we had to be happy." Claire smirked, straightening his tie for him. "If we run into anybody important, we can simply tell them that Garret needed us there. More eyes on him when this all blows up." She leaned forward, pecking his lips. "Thank you for noticing my dress by the way."

"You know I think you look stunning in everything." Francis whispered, a slight guilt to his voice for not complimenting his wife when she emerged from the bathroom in the dark shade of red satin. "If I didn't know better, I'd say God sent an angel."

Claire let out a throaty laugh, surprised and pleased with his out of the blue comment. "But, you know better."

Francis smiled. "Well, you are married to the Devil."

"Maybe his cousin." Claire corrected him, teasing him. "We should get going."

"Right, the role of grieving parents." Francis stated, adjusting his posture.

Claire smiled sadly. "If it helps you get into character, I'll remind you of what Doug is probably doing to our daughter at the moment." She saw the anger flash in his eyes. "Okay, take that down a few notches. Channel that into sadness, and you'll be fine."

* * *

Francis kept his arm around Claire as they descended the stairs to one of the large halls of the White House, seeing a line of reporters and cameras focusing on the party guests that were arriving through the front door. Two of Garret's secret service officers accompanied them as per his orders to ensure they weren't socially attacked by anyone about James.

One of the reporters met his eyes though, and soon every reporter was calling out for him and Claire to answer a few questions. "Sir, you don't have to go over there." One of the officers said, gesturing towards the gala.

"My daughter could be watching." Francis breathed before his hand slid into Claire's. They slowly walked over to the reporters, standing a few feet away to have a few different cameras on them. "What's your question?"

"Why are you here at the gala tonight? You're daughter has been missing now for two days." A reporter asked, blurting out their question without formerly asking for the chance to speak.

Francis felt Claire press herself closer to him, dropping her forehead to his chin and turning away from the cameras. He reached up with his free hand to cup her face, keeping her face hidden from the reporters. "The President needed us here tonight for support. It is my job to support the President. So, that's why I'm here. The police are actively looking for my daughter, and we have told them not to hesitate calling with any piece of evidence, no matter how small."

A different reporter held out her microphone further, a cameraman moving along with her. "Are there any leads on the investigation as to who did this? Do they know where your daughter is?"

"As for leads, I'm not sure if they've narrowed it down to anybody yet. But, no, they don't know where my daughter is? If they did, they would be bringing her back home to where she belongs." Francis said, choking up at the end. He found all reporters had a new sympathetic look to them, they own emotions showing through. "Our daughter is our life. We just want her back home. She doesn't deserve to go through this. She deserves to have a normal life where she doesn't have to know these kind of horrors. She deserves better parents. Ones that can protect her. Ones that can shield her from this. Unfortunately, we failed her on that."

". . .If she were watching this, or if the kidnappers were, what would you say?" An older reporter asked, his sideburns graying by his ears.

Claire finally turned her head, tears welled in her eyes and wet paths on her cheeks. She quickly swatted at them before looking into the camera. "If James is watching this, baby, we just want you to know that we love you and we want you to come home. We miss you terribly. We love you so much, baby girl." She let out a sob and pushed herself away from Francis gently, walking back a few feet. All cameras could see her now as she covered her face with her hands.

Francis teared up as well before looking in the camera. "We love you, darlin'." He turned towards Claire, but turned back to the camera. "If the kidnappers are watching this, let her go. If you're trying to hurt us, you've done that already. You have our attention. Just let our daughter go. She's done nothing wrong. She's an innocent girl who just turned sixteen for God's sake. Let her come home." He turned back around to Claire and wrapped his arms around her, letting her bury her face into his shoulder as all the cameras caught them now.

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	30. Chapter 30

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James panted as Doug rolled off of her, plopping down onto the mattress beside her and staring up at the ceiling. When his hand blindly reached for hers, she twisted their fingers together tightly, reassuringly. She licked her lips before finally getting her breathing somewhat under control. "Do you think we're doing the right thing?"

Doug smiled. "I know that I'm your first, but I know that you know how sex works."

"No," James laughed, turning onto her side to face him. She smiled caressing the stubble along his cheek. "I mean all of this. This whole plan. We're not only taking out guilty parties with this. We're destroying someone who's sole purpose for the past month was to protect me."

Doug gulped slightly, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Meechum?" He felt the deep burn in the pit of his stomach when she nodded. "You care for him, don't you?"

James sighed feeling him pull away from her. She held tight to his hand. "Not the way that should make you jealous." She could tell he was still on edge. His temper showed clearly when she jokingly mentioned Gordon's attempt at a date. Talking about the man she had sex with just hours after him couldn't have been all that easy on him. "You have to admit that he's done quite a bit to help us despite his lack of knowledge of the real plan."

"I know." Doug breathed. "But, he knows too much. If he stays-"

James crawled on top of him, pressing her fingers to his lips to stop him. "I'm not letting that happen." She whispered as his hands came to rest on her thighs on either side of his waist. "It's not like we can back out now either. I just need to know if this is the right thing to do."

Doug brushed back her hair. "Legally, morally, not a chance. For us," he pecked her lips, his fingertips running over her cheeks, "it's the only thing we can do to keep moving forward. I just hope we don't have to repeat all these steps."

"Don't you trust me?" James asked, sitting up, still on top of him.

He followed her, moving his hands to her waist to keep her from leaving. "I trust you. I trust you more than anyone else in this world. It's the future I don't trust. Who knows if we'll have another Meechum. We both know how your parents operate pertaining to sex outside of the marriage, and I don't want to work that way."

James shook her head. "I don't either. As much as I love my parents and there relationship, I don't like that part. Despite how annoying it is, I'd rather you be jealous than have me go off to fuck somebody just to get a head." She pressed her hands against his chest, pushing him back down onto the mattress. "Just promise me one thing."

"What's that?" Doug whispered, feeling his blood drift south again as she lifted up her hips. He groaned softly when she lowered herself down onto him, her face contorting as she sat fully on him.

"If we ever run into a situation where we have to do this with someone else, we only do it if there are no other options." James breathed, her blue eyes looking down to his brown ones. "On the breach of collapse, of tragedy, only when we've exhausted every other avenue."

Doug's fingernails dug into her flesh when she flexed her inner muscles around him. "Unless one of us is coming to an end, I only get this here." He bucked up into her as she began moving. "I promise."

* * *

"Good evening, Mr. President." Francis said as he opened the door to his and Claire's suite within the White House. After arriving back in their room after the gala, they were both expecting Garrett to come check on them, most likely hearing about the interview down where they told the press they attended the gala because he needed them there. "Did we forget something downstairs?" He glanced back at Claire, seeing her still in her evening gown with his tux jacket over her shoulders. The fireplace was going and she was sitting on the coffee table in front of it hugging herself. If he didn't know better, he'd think she were in real pain.

"No." Garrett sighed, shaking his head.

Francis pressed his lips into a fine line. "Now isn't really a good time, Garrett. We've had a long night."

Garrett nodded. "I heard. I just wanted to come up and apologize. I put my own personal agenda ahead of what you two really needed. I shouldn't have forced you to come to the gala tonight, especially with all of this going on. I can only imagine how you two are holding up."

"The distraction was welcome." Francis breathed, crossing his arms over his chest. "We haven't slept in days. We haven't eaten in days. I think that was the first decent meal I've had since my daughter has gone missing."

"I'm sorry, Frank." Garrett sighed. "I hate to even bring it up, but there are reporters who would like to speak to you more about it tomorrow. Understand why I needed you there tonight at the gala, maybe talk about what you just mentioned."

Francis frowned. "Why would I do that?" He saw Garrett struggle to answer without sounding like an insensitive prick. "Garrett, you aren't asking me to go to an interview to really talk and promote you right now, are you?"

Garrett shook his head. "Of course not. I just think that maybe another interview could get us some more answers as to where James is. If the gala happens to come up, you can explain why you were there."

"I did that tonight." Francis stated. "You wanted us there."

Garrett pursed his lips. "Yes, I guess that's correct." He ran a hand down his face before glancing down the hallway. "Let's just. . .talk in the morning. We can figure out a game plan to try and get James back. If the kidnapper is really after you, I don't think he would've gone far."

"Thank you for your offer, Garrett. But, the police have been combing the city's gutters. They haven't found her yet." Francis breathed. Both men turned when they heard Claire sob by the fireplace. "I'm sorry, but I really need to just be with my wife right now."

"Of course. Goodnight, Frank." Garrett nodded.

Francis closed the door and locked it before turning to Claire. Her hands wiped at her eyes before they pulled away his jacket. She smiled at him over her shoulder. "You can't help but mess with him, can you?"

Francis smirked. "I only give what people give to me. In his case - bullshit."

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	31. Chapter 31

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James moaned softly as she fought to wake up. She could feel fingers on her, nails digging into her thighs gently. A pair of lips pressed against her sternum. They met her skin again slightly lower. Without opening her eyes, she reached out and cupped the face of the person on top of her. "Doug, you-"

"Shh." Doug whispered, crawling up and meeting her lips with his. "I know what today is. Before that though, I want one last time before our bubble becomes more than just us." He kissed her again, smiling when she opened her eyes to see him. "I just need to be with you, the real you, one more time."

James teared up slightly, leaning up to kiss him. "You know I love you, right?"

Doug nodded, dropping his forehead to hers. "I love you more than anything. I need you to remember that. I can't let you forget that. You can't forget that, ever. If you do, I don't know what I'll do." He exhaled slowly when her legs lifted up around his waist, her knees hugged against his ribs. "You need to promise me that today won't change us."

"I promise." James breathed before he pushed into her.

* * *

Francis straightened out his jacket looking in the mirror, smiling when Claire walked up behind him. "Hours away."

"President Francis Underwood." Claire nodded, humming the words into his ear. She grinned when he stood a little taller at the name. "Just don't show too much confidence. To the rest of the world, our daughter is missing. The media thinks Garret isn't handling our situation well. They're turning on him."

"Just what we need." Francis smirked. He glanced up towards the clock hanging on the wall. The countdown had begun to his announcement of taking on the Presidency, but it had also started on his daughter. Despite how much he wanted the Oval office, the pit of his stomach was caught doing gymnastics knowing what his daughter had to face today in order for him to achieve it. "Have you seen her yet?"

Claire rested her chin on Francis's shoulder. "I haven't seen her since she left for school the day Doug kidnapped her." She met her husband's eyes in the mirror. "I miss her like crazy, but I know my presence and interference will not help what she's about to do. It'll be nice to have her again once this is all over."

Francis wrapped his fingers around Claire's, squeezing them gently. "The world will want to have her when this is all over."

* * *

James peered at herself in the mirror. She was back in what was left of her school uniform, but the evidence of her and Doug's activities showed all over her body. Bruises covered her legs, dark ones on the inside of her thighs. During their last round to gain more evidence, dark bruises were starting to form on her wrists and neck. She now had a few cuts as well, one from Doug's teeth on the corner of her jaw and one along her neck from the blade of Doug's pocket knife. Her lip was split too - another gift from Doug to put the final nails into Gordon's coffin.

To say he was sorry to her for having to do those things, he helped her clean away the evidence of himself on her. He treated her like a China doll as he ran a washcloth over every bruise and cut he caused along her body. He knew there was more damage than what he was seeing, but neither of them said anything about it. He held her arms as he helped her step out of the tub, handing her a towel to dry off with.

Until he found her, he couldn't touch her. Not the way he wanted to at least. He couldn't lay her back down and make up for the things he had done to her. He couldn't kiss every injury on the skin he had grown to worship over the passed few days. Until the next phase of the plan, he couldn't even kiss her cheek.

He sat at the foot of the bed, staring down at the floor with his head in his hands. She had walked out a changed into her uniform in front of him, gazing at herself in the mirror. He couldn't even bring himself to look at her bare feet on the carpet. He couldn't look at what he'd done to her, to the woman he loved more than he loved himself. Just the way she walked, a slight limp to her step, made him want to vomit. He had hurt her. She wanted him to, but he still felt sick about it.

James ran her fingers through her damp hair before turning to Doug. He was rocking back and forth slightly, his face buried in his hands. Her throat constricted as she kneeled down in front of him, closing her jacket to hide the bruises she knew would only hurt him more. She tried to pull his arms away, but he wouldn't budge. "Doug, please look at me. You made me promise this wouldn't change us. If you can't look at me, I can't leave."

"I hurt you." Doug gasped out, pressing his palms hard against his eyes. "I know I had to, but knowing I caused all of it. . ."

"Baby, please." James whispered, tugging at his arms again. She felt relief flood her for a split second when he removed his hands, but she was filled with dread when she saw the tears and redness in his eyes. "I need you to be here, right now, with me. We can deal with this later." She cupped his face in her hands, dropping her forehead to his. "You still love me, right?"

Doug nodded. "More than anything."

James looked up at his brown eyes. "And, you won't ever leave me."

"Not even if you threaten to kill me." Doug whispered, wrapping his arms around her, his hands pressing into her back. If it was sore, she didn't show it, and he was more in awe of her then than he had ever been. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Neither am I." James breathed before pecking his lips. "I know that you aren't happy about what you did. But, just remember one thing. You did all those things for me, not to me." She kissed him again, harder this time, happier that he was pulling her closer to him. "Believe me. I don't want to be anywhere else but in these arms."

Doug cupped her face in his right hand, his fingers tangling in her damp hair. "Then, they're all yours." He kissed her again before grabbing her arms gently and pulling her up to stand with him. "So much for getting rid of evidence."

James shook her head. "It won't matter." She walked over to Doug's bag and pulled out his mouth wash, quickly rinsing her mouth and going to the bathroom to spit. When she walked back out, Doug was waiting with wall passage open.

* * *

Francis and Claire stepped inside the Oval office, seeing Garret sitting at his desk like he was the King of England. He looked up at them, his professional demeanor quickly fading to one of sympathy. "Frank? Claire? I wasn't expecting you two to drop by."

"We just wanted to apologize for our behavior last night. I didn't mean to jump down your throat about the media." Francis began, his hand in Claire's as he walked over to the couches in the center of the room. He let her sit down before continuing to Garret's desk. "We know you're only trying to help, and, not to impose, we were hoping you could help us."

"Anything, Francis." Garrett said.

"We were hoping to talk with Gordon about his date with James." Francis stated. "Maybe he saw something that night."

Garret grabbed his phone and pressed it against his ear. "Please, fetch Gordon and bring him to my office."

* * *

James pressed her ear against the wall, listening to Gordon shuffle around his room aimlessly before their was a knock at the door. He shuffled over and flung open the door, letting it bang against the wall.

"What do you want?" Gordon asked, snippy and annoyed.

"Your father would like to speak with you in the Oval Office." Another voice explained. It was Meechum.

James listened closely before hearing the door close and Gordon's voice fading down the hallway. Pushing against the wall, she opened up the secret passageway to enter Gordon's room. She quickly sealed the wall again and hurried to the bathroom, preparing for final reunion with Gordon Walker.

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	32. Chapter 32

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Francis had to bite the inside of his lip to keep from smirking as Gordon Walker walked into the Oval office, clearly not expecting to see Claire and himself both waiting patiently for him. Despite his shock, Gordon held himself well, like a politician would. If the bastard hadn't attacked his daughter, he'd see great potential to use in the young teenager. Luckily, his daughter found another way to use him.

Gordon glanced over at Garret. "What's going on?"

Garret motioned for Gordon to sit down on the couch opposite Francis and Claire. "We just want to talk to you about James. The night she was attacked, more specifically. She's been missing now for five days, and we're extremely worried as to how long this could go on."

"I always had her pegged as someone resourceful. I'm sure she's fine." Gordon stated as he walked around the couch and plopped down unceremoniously. He kicked his feet up on the coffee table and looked at Francis and Claire. "She survived a knife attack that nearly made her bleed out."

"Gordon, please, be more sympathetic. This is a classmate of yours." Garrett scolded.

Francis cleared his throat. "Tell us what happened? Why did James get out of the car with you that night?"

Gordon shrugged his shoulders. "She wasn't having a good time. I offered to drive her home, but she jumped out before I could stop her." His eyes darkened, his lips struggling to stay in a firm line. "I didn't think our night had been so bad."

Claire leaned forward. "Wipe the smile off your face. She told us exactly what you had planned that night." She brushed back her hair, trying to calm herself. "The last memory she had of you was you trying to shove your hand down her pants."

"Gordon!" Garrett gasped, standing from his desk.

Gordon's eyes turned to saucers. "She's lying! She got out of the car before I could even touch her. Like she's some holy virgin or something?"

Garrett grabbed Gordon's arm, pulling him up from his seat. "Go to your room! I'll deal with you later." He glared at his son as he retreated before rearranging himself, calming back down to face Francis and Claire. "I'm sorry about him."

"I shouldn't have jumped at him like that." Claire shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. "James was just so scared about what happened, and then she told us about Gordon's advances. I've been trying to protect her from people like this her entire life, and I've failed."

Francis wrapped his arm around Claire. "Maybe we should all take a breath. I'm sure you have something on your agenda right now, Garrett."

Garrett looked over at his desk, aware of the full schedule that lay there. "I do have to meet with the press in a couple minutes. We're actually meeting in here." He motioned to the private sector. "Please, use whatever you need. We can discuss this further once I'm finished with the reporters."

* * *

Claire hummed into Francis's mouth as he backed her into the vanity inside the Presidential private sector of the White House. When his hands hiked up her skirt and grabbed her thighs, she reached back blindly, steadying herself as he positioned himself between her legs. "Francis," she whispered, "President Francis Underwood."

"Yes, First Lady Underwood." Francis breathed against her neck, thrusting inside her. He held her hips tightly, slowly moving inside her as one of her hands came to rest behind his neck. Her fingers dug into his skin with every thrust of his hips. "I do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States. I also swear that I will execute the office of Vice President while President Claire Underwood is in office."

"I do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States." Claire panted, biting Francis's bottom lip when he kissed her again. She smiled when he grinned against her, his movements becoming rougher. "I also swear that I will execute the office of Vice President while President Francis Underwood is in office. Now," she rested her forehead against his, staring directly into his eyes, "fuck me like you love me."

Francis chuckled softly. "With pleasure."

* * *

"Frank!" Patricia gasped, turning in time to see him emerge from the bathroom. "My gosh! You scared me. What are you doing in here?"

"I'm sorry, Patricia." Francis replied to the First Lady. "Claire and I were in a meeting with the President, and things got. . .heated. Since he had another issue to attend to, he allowed Claire and I to gather ourselves back here. I'm sorry I startled you." He gave her a soft smile, keeping his tone somber. He rested his hand on her shoulder briefly. "It's just been a hard week to say the least."

Patricia smiled sadly. "I can only imagine. Garrett and I have been praying for her safe return home. She's such a sweet girl. I just can't fathom who would want to hurt you like this. The police still think the kidnapper is targeting you, yes?"

Francis nodded. "All their leads point to someone here in the White House. I can't even begin to think of all the people who would have something to hold against me." He took a deep breath, clearing his throat a little louder than usual. "I hope they find her soon. Believe it or not, this is the longest I've ever been without my little girl." He glanced back at the bathroom door, closed with Claire behind it. "Every trip, every campaign rally. . .even long stretches cooped up in my office, I'd bring her along or Claire would come by with her for dinner. She was with us on the campaign trail when she was only a few months old. I've always had her with me. Now, I haven't seen my daughter for five days, and it's created a void."

Patricia rested her hands on Francis's shoulders, tears welling in her eyes. "We'll find her, Frank. I don't know when or how, but we'll find her. We can't lose hope." She looked around Francis when the bathroom door opened and Claire walked out, a tissue held tightly in her hand and tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "Oh, Claire, honey, can I get you anything?"

Shaking her head, Claire welcomed her husband's embrace. "I just want James back." She looked up at Francis. "Have any of the detectives called today? They usually call around this time."

"I haven't heard anything." Francis whispered before kissing her head. "They have the entire East Coast looking for her. Somebody has to know where she is."

Claire looked at Patricia and turned slightly in Francis's arms. "I hope that you never have to feel this way. It's unbearable." She rested her hand over her stomach. "I carried my daughter for nine months. She was completely dependent on me, and now it's the other way around. To feel her move all day, every day, and then bring her into this world. Watch her take her first breath, her first cry. To hold her tiny body for the first time and know that she's mine. I gave her life. I fed her. I changed her. We taught her to talk, to walk, to fend for herself. We took her to school and helped her with homework. She's part of me." She choked out the last words, clutching the tissue tighter in her hand. "Nobody can take her away from me. But, they did. In one moment during one day, somebody just took her from me."

"Claire, darlin'." Francis whispered, tears welling in his own eyes.

"She's my baby." Claire cried, clutching onto his jacket.

Patricia moved to help console Claire, but Francis shook his head gently. She gave a sympathetic smile before retreating, leaving them be in the private sector. When she was gone, Francis rested his head against Claire's. "You're not acting right now."

Claire shook her head. "I could hear you. I realized you were right about the time. I haven't seen James in five days. I've hardly ever been away from her. I still can't sleep the nights she stays over at a friend's house. Now, she has Doug, and she'll eventually leave us anyway. Yes, we'll see her everyday, but, Francis, I'm not ready for that. We created her. Why do we have to let her go?"

"We don't." Francis whispered into her hair, rubbing her back soothingly. "Remember our plan. You, me, Doug, James. . .that's thirty-two years of us all living under the same roof. All of us in the White House." He kissed her temple. "We're creating a life where we won't ever have to let her go." He felt her relax slightly in his arms before glancing down the hallway, knowing Meechum stood just outside of Gordon Walker's door. "I'm not giving her up to anyone, not even Doug. We're never letting her go."

* * *

Gordon slammed his bedroom door shut, kicking the waste basket that sat right next to it. The small can flew across the room, smacking the wall and sending trash flying everywhere. He grabbed the office chair by his desk and slammed that against the floor before he froze. The water was running in his shower, in his bathroom. He glanced around the room again. Nothing was out of the ordinary.

Walking into his bathroom, he flicked on the light and found the shower head pelting water down in the tub below. His attention quickly diverted over to the movement by his vanity though, his eyes widening when he saw James Underwood leaning against the counter in nothing but her white blouse from the school uniform and a pair of white panties. She smirked at him, a gun dangling from her hands. "James? What are you doing here? The country thinks you're missing."

James chuckled darkly. "I am. You're my kidnapper." She smiled when Meechum entered into the bathroom through the open doorway, but her eyes remained on Gordon. "Welcome to the end, Walker."

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	33. Chapter 33

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Gordon turned to bolt out of the room, but Meechum blocked him from the door, standing like a statue that wouldn't budge. "Going so soon? We were just getting started." James scolded him, sauntering over towards the tub and turning off the shower. "What's the matter?"

"What's going on?" Gordon asked, trying to make his voice seem more powerful. If it weren't for the sweat collecting along his brow, James would've believed him. "You were kidnapped from the school parking lot. Everybody saw it. How did you get into my room?"

"Oh, Gordon," James sighed. "I told you that night in your car was the beginning to your end. It was simple, really, to picture the whole country turning on you, to see your whole world crumble at your feet." She stepped into the tub, sitting down and propping her legs up over the side. She leaned back against the wall, resting her hand on her knee with the gun in hand. "But, I can't give you complete credit. Half of this is because of your father."

Gordon frowned, stepping closer to her. "My dad didn't do anything to you. I didn't even do anything to you."

James cocked the gun, effectively shutting him up. "Really? Let me remind you of the twenty blocks that have my DNA on the concrete and the physical therapy sessions I had because of that fucking knife you decided to stab into my leg." She shrugged her shoulders after a moment. "It doesn't matter anymore. It'll all be over soon."

Gordon's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

"I think you've figured out I wasn't really kidnapped." James smirked, lounging back like she didn't have a care in the world. "You see, I'm setting you up. For every girl you really did attack, they'll have a voice now. Since your precious Daddy can pardon you, I can't take the chance. I've been very busy making sure this whole thing lands on you."

"People saw me at school. They know I didn't take you." Gordon defended himself, pointing at his chest.

James laughed. "That's the least of your worries. You almost take the fun out of this." She watched as Meechum guided Gordon closer to her. "My skirt was found with the car, cut off of me with one of your knives that Doug swiped and returned without you noticing. The picture stolen from my dad's office - your fingerprints will be found on it. The frame is hidden here in your room. Under the guise of the gala, the police will think you snuck me in from the people who provided the tablecloths. One will be found in your closet with my DNA all over it. The sheets that were put on your bed last night - my DNA. I know you well enough to know that more than just your sweat is on them now too. Once the police test all your knives, they could possibly find my DNA on the one knife that you stabbed me with, but it reeked of bleach the last time I saw you here. Either way, I have you nailed."

Gordon slammed his hands down against the tub, seething. "You can't frame me for this."

"I just did." James smiled before kissing him. She glanced up at Meechum and winked before pulling back. Before Gordon could react, she lifted the gun and fired a bullet into his chest.

Meechum quickly grabbed Gordon's shoulders and pulled him back slightly, letting him drop to the floor with a thud. Turning back to James, he pulled out his cuffs and linked them around her wrists. "We don't have much time."

James shook her head. "We really don't." She closed her eyes and turned her head when Doug rushed over and thrust one of Gordon's knives into Meechum's back, making one of his lungs collapse. His eyes went wide as James opened hers to look at him. She leaned forward, cupping his face in her hands and tearing up. "I'm sorry."

Meechum's body went limp in her hands and slumped over the tub. Doug quickly took his place in front of James. "I love you, baby. I'll see you on the other side." He pulled out his roll of duct tape and placed a strip over James's mouth. He tossed the roll back into the tub and rushed back out to Gordon's room, slipping into the hallway just as secret service members were barreling towards him with guns drawn. "I found James Underwood!"

* * *

Francis and Claire both heard the shot, quickly being manhandled by secret service members to move them to a more secure location. As others started storming the personal residence, they were escorted into the Oval office where Garrett and the press were all aware of the gunshot. Garrett rushed over to them, trying not to panic over the numerous reporters calling back to their supervisors with the news. "Frank, do you know what's going on?"

"No idea. We heard the shot and were brought here immediately." Francis whispered back. He ran a hand down his face. "How did someone get a gun in here?"

The whole room went silent when one of the secret service member's radio blared out the words that Francis and Claire had been waiting for. "We found James Underwood. I repeat, we found James Underwood. She's in the private sector, the First Son's room."

Claire sobbed as she lunged for the door. "James!" Before anybody could stop her, Francis was on her tail. They both sprinted towards Gordon's room, reaching the hallway just as Doug was walking out carrying a blanket wrapped James. "My baby!" She felt a weight hit her chest when she really got a good look at her daughter. She knew what had to be done, but she wasn't prepared to see it.

Doug handed James over to Francis and watched as he and Claire fell to their knees, both crowding around her like she were a newborn baby. He looked up in time to see the reporters come around the corner, snapping pictures and filming the private moment for the Underwoods. He held up his arms and blocked their view of the family. "Excuse me. You are not allowed back here."

More secret service members hurried around and started forcing the press away from the scene as cops came through. "Doug Stamper, you're the one who discovered Miss Underwood?"

"Yes." Doug breathed, glancing back at her.

Francis felt his tears streak down his cheeks seeing the state his daughter was in. "We've got ya, darlin'. My God, James, what has he done to you?" He kissed her head when James sobbed into his chest. "It's okay."

Claire slowly pulled James into her own lap, cradling her and pressing her forehead to hers. "Hey, baby. I missed you so much." She smiled through a sob and held her daughter tighter. "I love you."

"I love you too." James cried with her, hugging her mother's arm as best she could with the large blanket around her.

Francis stood up and whipped around to the lead detective on James's case. "Who did this to her?"

"We haven't gotten her statement yet, but, judging by what we have here, it looks like Gordon Walker had this all planned out." The detective said, keeping his tone hushed. "We'd like to get James to a hospital to get checked over. I have a detective downstairs waiting by an ambulance who will be happy to ride with all of you. She'll stay with James during the exams and take her initial statement."

Francis glanced back at his daughter, tearing up knowing exactly what kind of exams they were going to perform to collect the evidence she had created on herself. "Can we at least get some clothes for her to put on. She'll get sick in those wet ones." He glared at the room. "Where's Gordon?"

The detective nodded his head. "I'll get your daughter some clothes to wear. As for Mr. Walker," he gestured down to James, "he was shot dead, and your daughter was holding a gun when we walked in."

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	34. Chapter 34

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James was more than thankful the detectives allowed her and her parents into one of the bedrooms so they could have a few moments to themselves. After emerging from the bathroom in the spare set of clothes they had provided, she had been wrapped up in Claire's arms again. Despite her years of proving her independence to them, she was more than happy to accept the affection from her mother. If she were truly honest with herself, the days apart from her parents left her wanting to go home. She loved Doug, but she wasn't ready to leave home just yet.

When Francis looked at her, she could see the anguish in his eyes, the agony. "Daddy, I'm okay."

"I know." Francis whispered before kissing her forehead. "It's just. . .what he did to you."

"I asked him to do it." James defended Doug's actions. Doug already felt guilty enough as it was. She didn't need her father making him feel any worse about it. Her heeling process was going to do his work for him. "Please, don't get angry at him."

Claire didn't want the conversation to escalate when they were in such a fragile state. Kissing her daughter's head, she kept her arms around her protectively. "We need to get to the hospital. Those exams will take some time, and we'll all have to talk to the detectives about what happened."

Francis nodded, putting his anger on the back burner. "Right. How are we playing this? Doug came in and killed Gordon after hearing the shot?"

"No." James stated, shaking her head. "Meechum discovered me and tried to free me when Gordon stabbed him. I grabbed Meechum's gun and shot Gordon." She sighed. "It'll be better for me in the long run."

"Alright." Francis nodded, not wanting to push his daughter anymore. He knew that what had just transpired couldn't have been easy for her to do or witness, and the hospital and detectives were only going to make her day worse. He wrapped his arm around James, his hand resting on Claire's back. "Let's get going."

* * *

Francis and Claire sat side by side in the waiting room. For their own security, they were the only ones in the waiting room with two secret service members standing guard at the door. The TV was playing a video of James being carried out of Gordon's room and handed to Francis and Claire. Although they had requested for the channel to be changed, every channel was talking about James being found in the First Son's bedroom.

"She's just like us, Claire." Francis breathed, glaring at the TV. "A survivor. We feared this since before her conception. Never thought I'd be so proud of something I dreaded so much." He glanced out to the hallway, seeing the doctors and nurses walk around like it was an average, normal day. "What Doug did-"

"Was what she wanted." Claire finished for him before meeting his eyes. "This. . .this doesn't change anything for her. Not in her eyes. He makes her happy, Francis. You've got to admit that. Even when you talked to her on the phone, you noticed how happy she was. Doug is more loyal to you now more than ever. He may choose our daughter over you, but she isn't turning on you any time soon."

Francis nodded before a nurse walked in. "Mrs. Underwood?" The nurse asked nervously.

Claire looked over at her, her eyebrows furrowed. "Yes?"

"It's your daughter. She'd like you to be in the room for the next exam." The nurse explained, her tone very clear about what exam she was talking about.

Francis squeezed Claire's hand. "Go. I'll call the detectives and see what more they know."

* * *

Claire held her daughter's hands, trying her best to ignore the nurse examining her daughter's lower half. She could see James was uncomfortable, masking the pain with a brave face. "Hey, look at me." James did as she was told, meeting her mother's matching blue eyes. "Tell me what you want to do right now."

"Go home." James whimpered when the nurse swabbed a tender spot. She bit her lip to keep from swearing.

"What would you be doing at home?" Claire asked, pulling back her daughter's attention. "Playing video games with your father?"

James snorted out a strangled chuckle, her body still tense. "Beating him at video games."

Claire smiled, tearing up seeing one cascade down her daughter's cheek. "Right. You still think he doesn't let you win after all these years. Maybe he's been blowing smoke at you since you were little. Wanted to build your self-confidence."

James huffed out a breath. "Like Daddy would ever let me win something that I didn't earn. He wouldn't even let me win Pretty, Pretty Princess when I was four."

"Your father did look awfully handsome in that crown." Claire laughed, remembering Francis's nights of coming home and spending hours on the floor with their daughter playing card games and board games.

 _Claire laughed with a four-year-old James in her lap, watching her husband proudly put on the plastic crown he had just earned from spinning the arrow. James was giggling uncontrollably seeing Francis in a crown and fake purple earrings. "Daddy, you look silly."_

 _"You're just trying to get me to give up the crown, aren't you?" Francis teased her, adjusting the fake ring that barely fit around the tip of his finger. "It's not going to work. You're going to have to take it from me fair and square, darlin'." He laughed when James covered her eyes, peeking to look at him through her fingers. "Your old man can't look that silly. He's a good looking man."_

 _"A very good looking man." Claire agreed before kissing James's head. "You wouldn't be as cute as you are if your daddy wasn't so handsome."_

 _James giggled. "I don't look like Daddy."_

 _Francis leaned forward with a grin. "When you smile, you look just like me." He laughed when James threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and reaching for the crown. "Help, Claire. She's making an attempt on my life here."_

"Those earrings never did him justice." James smiled, her face lighting up like Francis's would. She huffed out a breath, gazing up at her mother for a few moments. "I'm ready to go home."

Claire leaned down, pressing her forehead to James's. "I'm glad I get to take you home. I never thought I'd get to do that again."

* * *

Claire stepped into the waiting room to find Francis pacing with his phone squeezed in his hand. He looked rather tense, and she was worried about what he had heard from the detectives. "Francis?"

Francis stopped pacing, taking Claire's hands into his. "How's James?"

"She'll be okay. He did a number on her. We saw the bruising on her neck and wrists, the cut, busted lip. The exams. . .dark bruising on her thighs, all over her body. No broken bones, but she does have a few tears." Claire whispered delicately.

"Tears?" Francis asked.

Claire nodded and glanced behind her, verifying that no one was listening in. "Yes, two minor ones and one larger tear." She saw Francis's confusion. "Vaginal tears, Francis." She saw his face contort before he pulled away, his hands shaking. Before she could say anything to calm him, he grabbed the coffee table and flipped it, magazines flying up everywhere. "Francis, stop!" She scolded in a hushed tone. She glanced back out at the nurses' station, seeing no one had even paid attention. "You cannot do this now."

Francis ran a hand down his face. "He hurt her. I know this was her plan, but she didn't need to be hurt that badly." He clenched his phone in his hand tightly, debating on whether or not to call Doug out on his treatment of his daughter.

"What did the detectives say?" Claire asked, hoping to get her husband's mind off of the rape kit report being filed on their daughter's behalf. "You looked tense when I walked in. Almost like something went wrong."

Francis glanced at the hallway as well. "The night James went out on her date with Gordon Walker. How many secret service vans were outside?"

Claire furrowed her eyebrows and crossed her arms over her chest, curious to see what her husband was leading up to. "Gordon's detail was three cars."

"If James was attacked in the car by Gordon and was left alone on the sidewalk bleeding, that means at least three secret service members completely disregarded her and her safety when she was stabbed." Francis seethed. "And, Gordon Walker does not have that kind of power over the secret service."

"But, Garrett does." Claire concluded, her eyes widening the slightest. "Do you really think Garrett is capable of that? You've said yourself that he's spineless. Does he have the nerve to do something like this?"

Francis shook his head. "Not unless he was in on it with Gordon."

Claire stepped closer to her husband, lowering her voice even more. "You are accusing the President of the United States of trying to kidnap and assault a sixteen year old girl. Not just any girl, our daughter. The Vice President's daughter."

"I know," Francis whispered, "we just have to prove it."

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	35. Chapter 35

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As soon as they all walked through their front door, James excused herself to change out of the clothes the police had collected for her while she was in the White House. She bounded up the steps, eager to be in her own clothing again, when Claire looked over at Francis. He had been rather quiet in the car, keeping his attention on James as she slept on his shoulder. She felt the drop in the pit of her stomach. Her husband barely showed signs of emotion outside of their house, let alone all the ones he had shown today. It had been trying for all of them, and she knew that Francis would crack soon.

"I don't think we should scare James with the secret service idea yet." Claire breathed, keeping a close distance to the stairs and checking her daughter's door. "We've already let her do most of the leg work. She needs a break, Francis."

Francis nodded. "I agree." He met her eyes for a moment. "I need to call Doug and have him check into that theory." He bit his lip, glancing towards the stairs. "Did she say anything about Doug or about what happened? If he hurt her in any way, I will take care of it."

Claire gave him a small smile, understanding his pain. She knew the plan as well as he did, but she never expected to be reunited with her daughter when she was black and blue. It made her want to throw up when she really got a good look at her daughter's injuries. Even if they were planned and executed carefully, she knew James had suffered through it to get to the position they were in now. "The only thing she really said was how much she wanted to come home. I did most of the talking, trying to. . .distract her from the exam."

"I'll call Doug then." Francis relented, pulling out his cell phone and heading back into the kitchen. He leaned against the counter as he pressed the device to his ear. The first ring didn't even finish when the other line picked up. "Doug, you there?"

"Yes, I'm here." Doug whispered after a moment. His voice sounded pained. Francis didn't even think that Doug sounded this weak when he had been attached to the bottle. "I know I probably don't have the right to ask this after everything I've done, but how is James?"

Francis inhaled sharply. "You're right. You don't have the right to ask." He gritted his teeth together, carefully choosing his words. "I need your help though. The night James was attacked, Gordon's detail was three SUVs. The secret service members that night either haven't been interviewed or have been paid off to lie to the police. James remembers, vividly, Gordon stabbing her in the car. Those agents did nothing to stop Gordon, and they let her get out of the car in the state she was in." He pinched the bridge of his nose, willing himself to keep calm and not yell into his phone. "I want you to find out who they are and why they looked the other way."

Doug didn't hesitate. "It's not a problem, Sir. I will take care of this myself tonight." There was a long pause, only heavy breathing between the two men. "Is that all, Sir?"

"James had her exams with the doctors for the rape kit." Francis began, debating whether or not to divulge the information his daughter should be. "There are bruises all over her, from head to toe. And, those are just the injuries we can see, Doug."

There was a shaky breath, audible in the speaker to Francis. "I know. It was one of the hardest things I ever had to do."

Francis's eyes closed in relief and a little frustration. But, it was mostly relief. "She's going to be fine, Doug. The doctor said in a few weeks she'll be good as new." He smiled when Doug let out a sigh of relief himself, obvious guilt leaving his body with it. "What really happened today in Gordon's room?"

"What she told the cops is the truth. At least, her killing Gordon. She shot him with Meechum's gun." Doug stated as he stood from his couch, making his way back to his bedroom. "As for Meechum, she closed her eyes and looked away when he died."

Francis sensed a slight edge in Doug's voice. He knew Doug well. Unlike himself, he was very possessive of the women he came to have relations with. That fact that James slept with Meechum and couldn't bare to see him die would be bugging him. "This whole mess started because you let your jealousy get out of control. My daughter, God love her, adores you. She's isn't going anywhere."

"I know." Doug breathed. "Thanks for letting me know."

Francis hung up the phone without another word before walking out into the living room, finding Claire and James curled up together on the couch. James had her head resting on Claire's shoulder, and Claire's on James's head. He smirked at the two, resting against the doorframe leading in from the dining room. "Well, don't we look cozy." He glanced outside to see a throng of reporters swarming the townhouse, cameras and microphones protruding from each limb. "Why don't we go upstairs for the night? James, you can stay in our room."

Claire frowned looking over at him. "What's wrong?"

"The media frenzy has begun." Francis stated, gesturing towards the windows. He walked over to them, almost shielding his wife and daughter as they stood and fled to the stairs. He moved to the windows and closed the blinds before heading up himself.

* * *

Huddled between her parents in their bed, she was glad her father suggested she stay with them tonight. To be completely honest, she couldn't imagine going back to sleeping in a bed alone. While her mother sat looking through headlines on her tablet, her father sat looking through the mountain of emails that had been sent to him since she had been found by Doug and reported to the police. It had made national news, and the stories were straying far from the facts. Well, her facts at least.

She wrapped her arms around Francis's, resting her head against him as she gazed at his computer. "All these people want something from you. They know that you'll soon be the President."

"Yes, and they know they can get to me through you." Francis sighed before kissing her head. "Little do they know, you can use them all as well."

James smiled softly, her eyes heavy as the day's events started to catch up to her. "Do you two ever feel remorse after killing someone?"

Francis tensed at the question and looked over at Claire, seeing her alarmed eyes gazing back at him. James didn't seem fazed at all by the question she had just posed to her parents. In fact, she seemed rather casual about the day's events. Being careful about what he divulged to his daughter, he turned it back on her. "Why do you ask?"

"After looking back at everything I did to get to today, to killing Gordon, I wouldn't change it." James whispered, her eyes getting heavier. "I would kill him again in a heartbeat. But, Meechum, I wish he didn't have to die. He was a good person." She sighed contently against Francis's arm. "Does that make me a bad person that I don't regret killing someone?"

Claire stroked her daughter's hair, setting her tablet aside. "No, it doesn't, honey."

"Your mother is right." Francis nodded, closing his laptop and wrapping his arm around James. "Everybody handles taking a life differently. It also depends on the quality of the life you're taking. Your mother and I have both taken lives to get to where we are today. It comes with the territory. There are some people who just deserve to die, others just get caught up in the wrong business or the wrong person. In Gordon's case, he was a person who deserved to die. Meechum, he caught himself falling for you, and he couldn't stop himself. He was a good person who wanted to protect you, but we couldn't afford to bring him into the future with us."

Claire smiled softly. "Just like we saw you once upon a time. We thought we'd be bringing you pain and suffering if we brought you into the world. We gave you that, but we also gave you the gift and talent to get through it with grace. We're both proud of you, baby."

James grinned and took a moment to process everything. "I can't believe I actually got everything to work out."

Francis let out a laugh as he hugged his daughter closer. "We sure put on a show." He tickled James's sides, making her squeal and curl up in laughter. Claire chuckled at the sight, happy to see her daughter back to the innocence she had before this all started. "I never thought that you'd be outshining me at revenge when I held you for the first time."

"You were petrified that you'd squash her." Claire grinned with a shake of her head. Francis finally gave James a break, letting her fall onto the bed. James rested her feet in Francis's lap as Claire pulled James against her, almost cradling her for the second time that day. "I'd never seen your father treat anything so delicately before."

"What did happen the day I was born? I don't think I've ever heard the story." James queried, snuggling into her mother's embrace. "I know that I was born two weeks late, but I haven't heard anything else about what happened during that time."

Claire smiled at Francis. "Your father thinks you were born exactly when you were supposed to be born, February 17th. It was President's Day that year. Your father wanted to name you America. He knew you were going into politics then."

"Then, why did you name me James?" She asked.

"There have been six Presidents with the name James, the most popular name among Presidents." Francis smirked, leaning back against the tall headboard behind him. "But, back to the day you were born, your mother and I were both exhausted. You were keeping her up at night, and we had two false alarms the two nights previous. I think it'd been the longest period of time I'd ever been awake. Your mother was put on bedrest because her job was too stressful for her while she was pregnant with you."

"I was actually losing weight the last month of my pregnancy instead of gaining." Claire added in, squeezing her daughter tighter.

Francis nodded. "That too." He shook his head. "Around three in the morning, your mother's water broke in the kitchen as she was stuffing herself with ice cream. I was so exhausted. I thought it was just going to be another false alarm. So, we got to the hospital and checked in. It wasn't until your mother was hooked up to a machine to track her contractions that I finally realized it was the real thing."

"Your mother was a trooper. I don't think she complained once during her labor with you. She didn't even threaten to kill me for getting her pregnant." Francis continued, reminiscing over the day he had committed to memory. "We were in the delivery room for three hours. Your mother did the whole thing drug free, and she pushed you out of her body. Never thought I'd ever find childbirth beautiful, but," he smiled at his daughter, "there you were. A wrinkly little thing with a full head of hair. The whole world seemed to stop when you started crying, your first cry. Suddenly, it wasn't just your mother and I anymore. The world was more an enemy than ever. We had you. A five pound baby girl who could fit in one hand."

Claire felt her heart warm seeing Francis gush over the moment they first met their daughter. It was a moment they had both been looking forward to and fearing for months. For they both knew that they'd have a liability and a new love of their life wrapped up into one tiny human being. "The doctor handed you to me right away. You were a strong little girl. You fought anybody who wasn't your father or I. Nearly squirmed your way to the floor a few times in that delivery room. But, you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen." She kissed James's temple before pointing towards Francis. "When they handed you to your father, he actually looked at me a little scared that he'd hurt you. He was more prepared to run the streets of Washington naked than hold you. After a few moments though, he settled in. Once you yawned though, for some reason, your father felt like a father. He knew then there would be no one more important to him than you."

"Why was it when I yawned?" James asked with a slight frown.

"It was the first time I actually knew something about you." Francis shrugged with a small smile. "When you were in your mother, she could feel every move, every craving. She could feel when you were sleeping or had the hiccups. Holding you was one thing, but having the ability to take care of you as well was something life-altering." He squeezed his daughter's leg, seeing her heavy eyes struggling to stay open. She was staying awake for this story. "Every time I see you yawn, I'm reminded of that feeling."

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	36. Chapter 36

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Francis gulped down his coffee before hearing the front door open. He didn't have to look up to know who had walked into the townhouse. "What did you find?"

"Walker paid each secret service member thirty thousand dollars two days after James's attack." Doug breathed, walking into the kitchen and opening his laptop to show his boss. "There is no history of something like this happening in his financial records, and he used his own personal money to pay them off. He isn't even trying to hide it. If the cops put two and two together and decide to investigate Garrett's involvement-"

"They will find a gold mine." Francis gritted out, turning the laptop to face him fully. He felt the bile rise in his throat thinking of all the time he had spent with Garrett during their whole charade. He turned his gaze to Doug. "Where are the cops in their investigation now?"

Doug held up a broken burner phone. "I gave them a tip about Walker. The news is already talking about the detectives showing up at the White House this morning." He tossed the phone into the trash and held out his hand. "Congratulations, Sir."

Francis shook Doug's hand with a smile. "Thanks, Doug." They both turned when they saw James walk into the kitchen, still in her pajamas. She looked between the two of them as if an explosion was about to occur. "Good morning, princess. Sleep well?"

James walked over and hugged him, closing her eyes when he kissed her head. "Yes, thank you." She slipped from his embrace and turned to Doug, not exactly sure how to go about greeting him or interacting with him. They were barely hanging by a thread the last time they had a real conversation, and they hadn't both been in her parents' company since their relationship became relevant information. She bit her lip, crossing her arms over her chest. "Hey."

"Hey." Doug breathed. His hand itched to reach out to her. Her lip had a scab from where it was split, his handprints as bruises around her neck. Her hair hadn't been combed yet, loose hairs pulled from her ponytail. Her arms and legs had bruises, more of his handiwork. She looked like she had just survived hell, and he couldn't love her more. "I'm glad you're okay."

James gave him a small smile before glancing down at herself. "I probably look like a train wreck."

"You look beautiful." Doug uttered the words before he even thought about them. He realized Francis was still in the room and blushed, looking down at his feet. His embarrassment was quickly forgotten though when he saw James grinning at him, her own blush flooding her cheeks.

Francis cleared his throat, keeping his eyes trained on the newspaper. "Darlin', why don't you go change into something nice? We are going to the White House today, and Doug and I have some more things to discuss."

James frowned but moved to walk by Doug. She smiled when his arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her against him in a hug. He kissed just above her ear. "Wear that black lace dress you wore to my birthday party a few months ago." He whispered.

Claire walked in just as James was hurrying out. She turned to the two men, sensing an awkwardness in the air. The observation was quickly discarded when she saw bank financials covering Doug's laptop screen. "Garrett's really behind this?"

"Two days after the attack, one hundred and eighty thousand dollars left Walker's account and transferred to the six secret service members who were on Gordon's detail the night James was in the car with him." Doug stated with a firm nod. "We got him."

Francis stood from his seat, resting his empty coffee cup in the sink and standing next to Doug. "I want to go in and confront Garrett. He can't hide from this. The detectives already paid a visit to the White House. I want to know from Garrett if he's actually a part of this or if he was just paying off loose ends."

Claire closed the laptop slowly, looking between the two men. "Whatever the case, I don't want to tell James unless it is absolutely necessary. She may be a strong girl and a good manipulator, but she's still a sixteen year old who still hasn't thought about the security detail that night. She's suffered enough from the Walker family. I don't want this to cause her more pain."

"Agreed." Francis nodded before glancing at Doug. He looked somewhat troubled, and he didn't want to have to consider Doug a loose end in this. "Doug, this is for her own good. We will tell her if she needs to know, but I don't think it's wise to do so right now."

Doug gripped the counter top with white knuckles. "I'm not going to lie to her. She'll know something is up." He sighed, closing his eyes. "I'll try to keep as much as I can from her, but I won't lie." He grabbed his laptop, tucking it under his arm. "I just hope that if she finds out it won't be the end of her trust in me."

* * *

"The President is running a few minutes late. He said you could go in and wait for him if you'd like." Garrett's secretary said, her voice nervous and sad from the events circling around the Walker and Underwood families. She looked between Francis and Claire. Doug and James sat on a bench a few feet behind them.

Francis gave a curt nod to the receptionist and rested his hand on the small of Claire's back. "That will be fine." He and Claire both looked back to James. "It shouldn't take too long, darlin'."

James nodded and gave him a sad smile to keep up the appearance. "I'll be okay." When they both disappeared into the office, she discretely snuck her hand into Doug's, hiding their intertwined fingers between them on the bench. "What's going on, Doug? I know you and my parents are planning something here. I need to know what it is so I can be prepared."

Doug made sure the receptionist was busy before answering. "They found some more evidence that incriminates Garrett for some of what happened with Gordon. As concerned parents for the daughter they just recovered, they are going to guilt Garrett into resigning." He knew he wasn't telling James the complete truth, but the truth was worse than what any of them had thought this entire time. They never even thought to look into Garrett or the security detail that night. They were all at fault for not securing James in the fallout. "You'll be First Daughter by the end of the night."

* * *

Garrett stepped inside his office and gulped seeing Francis and Claire sitting on the couch, waiting for him. He had been dreading seeing them and hoped they wouldn't show up so soon. But, they wanted answers, just like he did. He straightened his jacket before nodding at them. "Frank, Claire, I'd say it's a pleasure, but I think we can all agree this is anything but." He slowly walked to his desk, letting his fingers skim the wood. "How is James?"

"YOU don't get to ask that question." Francis spat, shooting up from his seat on the couch. He circled to the other side of the desk, slamming both his hands on the wood. "You've known this whole time. You knew it was Gordon who stabbed James in the SUV. You knew Gordon was the culprit when he performed his little knife show in here. You knew it was him when you insisted that Gordon come visit James, or that we come stay here with her. You knew!"

Garrett's eyes widened. "Frank, I assure you. I had no clue. If I did, I would've put a stop to it. How was I supposed to know my son would do such a horrible thing?"

Francis nearly lunged at the man. "You were the one that fucking paid off his security detail. It was hush money to conceal everything!" He pointed his finger at Garrett. "If you were in on it, I swear to God, Garrett. Tell me the truth. Were you going to harm my daughter as well? Were you just one to watch your son violate her?"

Garrett moved closer, unaware of how close he was to becoming Francis's punching bag. "I swear, Frank. I didn't have a God damn clue."

"Garrett, James remembered her date with Gordon while he was holding her captive. She remembers being stabbed. We looked into it. We know that nearly two hundred thousand left your back account shortly after the attack. The receivers of those funds were all on your son's detail that night." Claire stated calmly, standing from her place and moving between the two men. "So, cut the shit about not knowing anything about your son's sick fantasy."

Garrett gulped, taking a few steps back for some breathing room. He pulled at his tie, sweat gathering along his jaw and hairline. "I was only trying to protect him." He whispered. He turned and gazed out the windows, almost seeing his end play out in front of him. "Last year, he brought girls home from school. It was contained. We fixed up the girls and offered them money to help them get through."

Claire frowned. "You mean to keep them quiet."

"Yeah, that's another way to put it." Garrett admitted. "When I won the election, suddenly there were no more girls. No more payoffs. He didn't even mention a girl's name around Trisha or myself. When he asked James out, I thought it would be different. We've all known each other for years. He was taking her out in public. I thought everything would be fine. When he came home that night, he was pissed. And I remember thinking - thank God he didn't hurt her the way he hurt those other girls." He exhaled sharply, his shoulders dropping. "Then, the news was reporting you carrying James into the hospital that night. I panicked. The next morning, his security detail came to my office to tell me what happened. I guess I just went back to my old ways. I bribed them all."

He turned back to Francis and Claire, defeat evident in his eyes. "I thought that would be the end of it. But, Gordon was insistent on seeing James again. I never thought he would actually kidnap her and. . .do what he did to her." He ran a hand down his face. "The detectives destroyed his room yesterday collecting evidence. It was horrific. He had a collection of photographs, all of James. Some of them were from months ago. Others were the days leading up to her going missing. The picture that went missing from your desk, Frank, the frame was found at the bottom of Gordon's hamper."

Francis stood up straighter, crossing his arms over his chest. "So, you claim you know nothing about his plans to kidnap James."

Garrett nodded. "I didn't know until I saw his journal yesterday. He was heavy with the details on how he was going to do it. The first entry he has that talks about her is the night I was elected. The entries only got worse from there. He talked about kidnapping her in there. He had plans."

Claire reached back and clasped Francis's hand when she felt her gut drop. "He wrote about his plans?"

"Yes," Garrett confirmed. He looked around the room, his eyes filling with tears. "I guess it serves me right for protecting him. I can't run this country if I can't even prevent my son from becoming a monster." He looked at Francis. "You deserve to be President. After everything I've done to you and your family, the country deserves to have a better President, and that's you."

Francis squeezed Claire's hand. "You're resigning."

Garrett nodded. "Better that than walking out of here in handcuffs." He waved his hand towards the door. "I won't keep you. You have plenty to prepare for, Mr. President."

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	37. Chapter 37

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"Gordon was really planning on kidnapping her." Claire breathed as she and Francis nearly collapsed in his office. After they left Garrett alone in the Oval, they barely contained themselves as they informed Doug of the President's resignation being read to the nation later that afternoon. James decided to help Doug in preparing for their takeover of the White House, leaving the married couple to register the information, they had just heard from Walker, in the Vice President's office. "Francis, he planned on taking her for months. Attacking her, holding her hostage. How did we not see this?"

Francis shook his head, pressing his fist against his mouth. "I'm trying to remember Garrett's campaign. His election win celebration. We've know them for years, but I can't think of when Gordon would've started his obsession with her." He pressed his thumbs against his eyes, feeling them roll underneath his eyelids. "There would've been so many opportunities for him to take her. Why didn't he?"

Claire sucked in a breath, thinking back on the past years of James's interactions with Gordon, but she was coming up short with every memory she could think of. Without even looking his way, she stretched her hand across the desk towards Francis. She felt a slight sense of relief when his hand clasped onto hers. "I don't know if we'll ever find out why he wanted to do those things, Francis. But, we can't dwell on this. If we do, James will know something is wrong. The detectives will probably want to ask her about Gordon's journal and the pictures, but we can hold them off for a little while. . .or at least censor some of the material before she sees it."

Francis met Claire's eyes when she finally turned to look at him. "I'm not sure I even want to read it."

"Me either." Claire whispered. They sat for a moment, just staring at each other. Despite how long they had waited for this day, they weren't prepared for the secrets that came out today.

Francis tugged on her hand before standing up. He walked around his desk as Claire stood and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. He could feel the slight tremor in her body and kissed the side of her head. "It's okay. We don't have to worry about Gordon Walker ever again."

Claire wiped at her eyes with her fingers, turning her face into Francis's neck. "Do you really think Garrett was telling the truth in the Oval? Do you think he only paid off the detail to protect Gordon?" She licked her lips. "Because if he didn't, I want him to suffer a worse fate than the country thinks James endured."

"Doug and I will keep digging." Francis stated with a nod. "If I find out he lied about anything, we'll make him wish he never even had a son."

* * *

Doug scrolled through his tablet, marking articles on James's kidnapping and on leads for Garrett's story. He sat hunched over his desk while James sat across from him. She was staring intently at the television, a press conference being held with the headline 'President to make special announcement' flashing across the bottom. "Hey, Doug?"

"Yes, baby?" Doug replied, continuing to search the internet on his tablet.

"What exactly did my parents have on Walker that tied him to Gordon?" James asked, looking over her shoulder at him. She saw his hand freeze over his tablet, but his eyes remained glued to the screen behind his glasses. "We don't hide things from each other, remember? What aren't you telling me?"

Doug closed his eyes, tossing his tablet down onto his desk and letting the screen go black. He leaned back in his chair and debated who or what he was more scared of. "I told them that I wouldn't tell you. . .at least not until things settled down around here." He met her eyes, her normally bright blue ones darkened to a shade of black. "The information isn't critical to know. We aren't planning anything. It won't affect us going forward. It just has to do with the case. I'm sure the detectives working it will tell you when they have their case put together."

James gripped the back of the chair she was on with white knuckles. There weren't many times her temper flared to her father's legendary heights, but being kept in the dark by her parents always seemed to trigger it. "You don't think I can handle it."

Doug shook his head. "I didn't say that. Don't put words in my mouth." He saw the slightest cock of her eyebrow and rushed to correct himself. "Listen. I know what you can handle. You came up with this whole plan to get into the White House, and you performed it beautifully. You won. You got us here. But, I think you deserve a break from some bad news for a while. You have to admit that the last couple months haven't been easy for you."

"No, they haven't." James agreed, glancing down at her hands. She straightened up slightly when she looked back at Doug. "That doesn't mean you get to keep things from me. We have an understanding. It's not going to work if you side with my parents over me."

"I'm not siding with them. I just happen to agree with them on this." Doug corrected her. He stood up from his desk and walked over to her, sitting in the chair beside her. "Have I ever done you wrong?" He held back his smirk when her eyes rolled. "Do you trust me?"

James smirked. "Unfortunately."

Doug smiled. "Then, trust me. When the time is right, when things settle down, I will tell you what I know about this." He kissed her forehead. "I just want to give you some time to enjoy the rewards of what you've done so far. Going forward, I won't keep anything from you. I promise. I don't care what your parents say or what happens. You and I are a team now."

James grinned, sliding her hands into his and rubbing the backs of his hands with her thumbs. "Team Stamper-Underwood."

The door to Doug's office suddenly opened, making the two inside jump apart. They both relaxed when they realized it was only Francis and Claire barging in and immediately gravitating towards the television. "It's starting." Francis breathed.

Doug quickly closed the door as Garrett moved behind the podium on the television. He looked twenty years older than he did that morning in the Oval office, and it made all of them smirk to see Walker finally pay for backing out on his promise. James slipped under her father's arm, hugging him from the side as Garrett announced to the nation that Francis would be the new President of the United States.

"Congratulations, Daddy." James whispered with a smile.

Francis looked like the Joker after fleeing Batman, his smile a mile wide as he nearly smothered James and gave her a kiss to the head. He let his arms unwind from around her before turning to Claire, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her hard. "Congrats, Claire."

"Congratulations, President Francis Underwood." Claire breathed before pecking his lips again. She sighed contently when he wrapped his arms around her, letting her cheek press against his as they both looked back at the television.

* * *

"Well, at least the Vice President's residence will be in use by you for one night." James laughed as the family walked into the residency that would've been Francis's a few hours ago.

Francis grinned as their bags were carried in. "But, only as President." He kissed her head and wrapped his arm around her waist as Claire directed where their bags should be taken to. "We won't be here for long. They plan to start moving Walker's belongings out tomorrow morning. We should be in by dinnertime."

Claire smiled and pointed up the stairs. "Why don't you go get settled for the night? Doug will be here shortly to stay in the guest bedroom." She watched as James hurried up the stairs before turning to Francis. "I want to get her out of D.C. for a couple days."

Francis furrowed his eyebrows and gently took her arm into his hand, moving them away from the front door. "What are you talking about? She's all America is talking about. They want to see her."

"Yes, but you know how these stories go." Claire retorted. "We already started getting phone calls for exclusives on her story. The detectives on her case could show up any day now looking to ask her about the evidence Garrett told us about. If we want to protect her from it, we need to get to it first. At least one of us does."

"What are you suggesting?" Francis asked.

Claire glanced up the stairs before continuing. "I'll take James out of the city for a long weekend. We can frame it however we want with the press: a break, an adjustment period. Everyone will understand if she doesn't want to immediately live in the house where they think she was repeatedly raped and held captive. I would rather keep her away from all that we've learned until we discover all that there is to this."

Francis contemplated his wife's words. What she was saying was making sense, but he was curious to see where she would go that could hide their daughter when the whole country was watching for her. Her kidnapping had taken the news by storm, and her return home made an even bigger impact. Their timing with the press finding them reuniting with James couldn't have gone better. Only a few outlets got a brief video of the encounter, but it was enough to have the entire country supporting their daughter's recovery.

He met Claire's eyes, seeing that she already had a plan. She wasn't asking for approval. "Where were you thinking of taking her? The Gaffney house could use a visit."

"I was thinking Texas." Claire shrugged. "My mother's to be more specific."

Francis scoffed. "You can't be serious." He saw her eyes divert back to the stairs and reminded himself to keep his voice down. "When we told your mother we were expecting, she told us that she hoped our baby died so it wouldn't have to have us as parents."

Claire nodded. "I know what she said."

"She made you doubt yourself. She's never even met James." Francis ranted, his hand flying out in the air with each point he made. "All she's going to do is make you two miserable. She has knack for making you feel like a little girl. James will hate her, especially if she learns what all she has done to you in the past-"

Claire cut him off, her voice calm but firm. "Francis, I'm not going to argue with you on this. I know that it might not be the most relaxing break, but it will be a distraction. James will not like her. I know that for a fact. But, she'll be too curious to entertain the notion of wandering out someplace else. She's like us. She wants to know where her weak spots are. My mother will probably insult her the second we walk through the door, but James is a tough girl." She smirked slightly. "She knows how to throw shade right back at people. She knows how to knock them off balance. Who better to practice on than someone she's related to?"

Francis couldn't help it as his lips tugged upwards at the corners. "I thought we didn't want her to become like us."

"She's already us. We need to make her better at it since she's going to continue down our destructive path." Claire stated matter of fact. She saw the nervous look on Francis's face. "I remember perfectly what all she said to us about James, Francis. I won't let her hurt our daughter."

Francis nodded, gazing up at the closed door of his daughter's room. "I know. This may be a test for James, but I don't think Elizabeth has the right to know her as a granddaughter."

Claire walked up behind him, resting her chin on his shoulder. "They will still be strangers when we leave. She'll be nothing more than a future campaign tool for James when all is said and done." She kissed Francis's cheek. "I have a plane ready to take us. We just have to talk to James."

"Let's just give her the night." Francis sighed. "The President wants his daughter around his first night in office."

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	38. Chapter 38

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Francis yawned as he walked down the hallway from the bathroom towards his and Claire's bedroom for the night. His path was rerouted though as a smile grew on his lips, hearing his daughter let out a true genuine laugh from downstairs. Peering over the railing, he could see lights flashing from inside the living room. He quickly went to the bedroom, only stepping in enough to see Claire tucking their unpacked bags in the closet. "What is James doing?"

Claire slid the door shut and began removing her jewelry. "I think she mentioned that she was watching a movie with Doug. I told her to tell me what movie they picked once they decided. We could join them."

"I'd rather her not spend any more time alone with Doug." Francis nodded before extending his hand, ignoring Claire's smirk as she took his hand and followed him downstairs. They both stopped in the doorway, surrounded in darkness, to see what the two were up to.

Doug started searching through the movies for something decent to watch, his arm draped over the back of the couch where James was sitting with a bowl of popcorn cradled in her lap. "What do you want to watch? Drama, action, comedy."

James snuggled into the cushions, nearly being submerged in the oversized couch. "I don't know. What's your favorite movie?"

"The Godfather." Doug breathed without skipping a beat. "I'm gonna make him an offer he can't refuse. That could probably be the summary of my job title." He smiled when James laughed, briefly muffling the noise in his chest. "It's seriously one of the greatest films of all time."

James shoved a handful of popcorn into her mouth, shrugging her shoulders. "I've never seen it."

"That doesn't surprise me." Doug stated, continuing to scroll through the movies. "Your cinema history knowledge is horrible. You still don't know what Barney is." He grunted with a chuckle when she smacked his chest playfully. "Well, it's true."

James shook her head, reaching for another bundle of popcorn. "Then, educate me. Let's watch The Godfather. How long is it?"

Doug found the movie and grinned. "Three hours."

"Three hours?" James asked, wide eyed. "Do you know how much I could get done in three hours?"

"In the middle of the night without a computer, not much." Doug retorted before kissing her cheek. "That's why I'm here."

James laughed and grabbed the remote from him. "You're lucky I love you." She cuddled into his side and grabbed her phone. "Let me just ask my parents if they want to watch it too. What's it about anyway?"

Francis decided to intrude on them then, leading Claire to the couch beside them. "The Godfather, eh? I haven't seen this movie since before I was in politics. Has to have been college." He wrapped his arm around Claire as she turned her back to him and leaned back against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder. "Good choice."

James smiled as she hit the play button, tossing the remote onto the coffee table. "Alright, then. This should be interesting."

"We'll be lucky if we're all awake by the time Al Pacino takes part in the family business." Claire hummed, relaxing into Francis. She tangled her hand with his that crossed over her body. She smiled feeling his lips press against the back of her head. "From one corrupted family to the next."

Francis chuckled, his lungs making Claire shake slightly from his amusement. "To our family, this is educational."

* * *

Francis was the first to wake up, the rising sun outside the windows shining directly on his face. He used his free hand to shield his eyes before blinking and looking around the room. They had all fallen asleep during the movie. The TV was back to The Godfather menu. All the popcorn bowls were empty. Claire was huddled against him under a blanket. On the other couch to his left, Doug and James lay with a blanket over them. Doug was on his back, his arms protectively holding his daughter who was sprawled out over top of him, the way she normally slept in a bed by herself.

His heart clenched remembering the days when he would hold his infant daughter against his chest as she slept. Soothed her to sleep when she had a nightmare. Shielded her from journalists when she was just a child with her innocence fully intact. Many of his shirts turned into her tissues when she'd have a cold or started crying. Other than Claire, he'd been her only safe haven. She knew that he'd do whatever he could to make her feel better or protect her.

 _Francis looked to the front door when Claire walked in carrying three year old James on her hip. James was holding out her hands with tear stains on both her cheeks. Her bottom lip pouted out and trembled as if she was about to burst into tears at any second. When he saw the blood on her little hands, he rushed over. "Oh my God! What happened?"_

 _"A boy pushed her off the swings at the playground. She fell down on the wood chips and cut up her hands." Claire sighed, hugging James against her chest. "Can you get the first aid kit?" Francis nodded before hurrying to the bathroom. "The boy was a monster. He's probably fourteen or fifteen. He just came out of no where and shoved her. I yelled at him, but he ran away before I could really do anything."_

 _"I should've been there. I could have taken care of the little menace." Francis gritted out as he returned. He met James's puffy blue eyes and brushed her hair away from them. "We're going to get you all patched up, darlin'."_

 _Claire sighed as they moved to the living room, holding James in her lap while Francis started cleaning and bandaging the multiple cuts on their daughter's hands. "Handling a teenage boy would only raise flags. He'll get his eventually."_

 _Francis kissed each of James's patched up palms. "We don't wait for eventually." He leaned forward and blew a raspberry against James's stomach, happy to hear her squeal with laughter and squirm in Claire's arms. While she was distracted, he lifted up the legs of her pants to check her knees for any scrapes. Satisfied that she was okay otherwise, he closed up the first aid kit. "We'll take these off before your bath tonight."_

 _James reached for Francis, curling up against his shoulder when he picked her up from Claire's lap. "Mean boy, Daddy."_

 _Claire rubbed her daughter's back soothingly. "I have a few buildings to go look at for my new headquarters. You're still good to watch her this afternoon, right?"_

 _"Of course." Francis nodded. "I'll take her out for some ice cream."_

 _"Yes, get some sugar in her before her nap. That should be pleasant." Claire smirked before kissing his cheek. "Have fun though."_

 _Francis smiled at her as she hurried upstairs to change. He rubbed James's back as he headed for his things, her face tucked into his neck. "C'mon, darlin', Daddy's going to take care of the problem for you. We're going back to the park."_

 _In the car, James played with her toys while sitting in her carseat. Francis glanced back at her in the rearview mirror before pulling up alongside the park. It was somewhat secluded. It was why he and Claire had taken James to it. The trees blocked most of the eyes from the surrounding buildings and roads. "Do you see the boy that pushed you, James?"_

 _James leaned her head out, looking around the park and pointing towards the swings. "On the swings!"_

 _"Alright," Francis breathed, glancing around the playground to check for anyone else. When he couldn't see any other person, he turned in his seat to look at James. "Darlin', Daddy is going to go talk to that boy so he doesn't hurt you again. I'm going turn on your music. Whatever you do, don't watch Daddy. Just play with your toys."_

 _"Okay, Daddy." James smiled before returning to making noises for her toys._

 _Francis climbed out of the car and locked it behind him before cracking the windows a little bit. Verifying no one else was around once more, he marched up behind the boy on the swing and grabbed his collar. "We need to talk, son."_

 _"Hey, what the hell are you doing?" The boy asked. Claire was right. He was probably fourteen or fifteen. Maybe even sixteen with the little facial hair that was coming in._

 _"The little girl you pushed off the swings today was my daughter." Francis stated as he dragged the boy over towards the spring riders sticking out of the wood chips. "I don't like it when people hurt my daughter."_

 _The boy tried to twist out of Francis's grip. "It was a joke, man. I didn't think she'd cry. She was on the high swings anyway. She was supposed to stay on the low swings."_

 _Francis looked the boy in the eyes. "My daughter doesn't have to do anything." Before the teenager could say anymore, he slammed the boy's head into the spring rider shaped like a horse. His skull cracked against the horse's saddle before his body went limp against the ground. When Francis saw the blood pouring out from a wound in the boy's head, he glanced around once more before darting back to the car._

 _When he got back inside, he pulled out onto the road as if nothing had happened. "What kind of ice cream do you want, darlin'?"_

 _"Mint." James gave him a toothy grin. "What about boy?"_

 _"He won't ever hurt you again." Francis stated, wiping his brow._

Now, she was laying on Doug's chest. She had another person who could soothe her and shield her. She had another safe haven. He knew in the back of his mind that the day would eventually come. Despite his inner quarrels about having a child, he couldn't bare to give her up to any man just yet. Doug would care for her the way he'd want someone to care for his daughter, but she was still his. She'd always be his. His blood ran through her veins, and his voice rang in her head loud and clear. For now, she was still his and Claire's.

* * *

"You're sending me away?" James asked, wide eyed as she stood in front of her parents. "Why are you sending me away? I'm not pregnant. I don't need to be hidden from the public. I deserve to be here just as much as you two do."

Claire held up her hands. "We know that. You are a big reason for us being here in the first place." She rested her hands on her daughter's shoulders. "We just think, for the sake of appearance, it might be better to leave D.C. for a long weekend. Your father and Doug are going to be too busy working anyway for us to spend any time with them. I think everyone would understand given what they believe happened."

James frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. "For appearances, I get that part. But, why are we going to _her_ house? I don't even know her. She calls once a year around Christmas to tell me I'm growing up as a woman in, and I quote, 'all the wrong ways'."

Francis let out a chuckle, trying to calm down his daughter when her jaw dropped and Claire glared at him. He quickly coughed, hitting his chest with his fist a couple times. "Something got caught in my throat." He walked around the bed, joining Claire in confronting their daughter. "Darlin', we just think that it would be a good idea. The press won't leave you alone. You've been getting calls about exclusive stories, and the world thinks you were discovered this past weekend."

"Is this about all the things you're making Doug keep from me?" James questioned. Her parents both stood silent, but their silence spoke volumes. "Is Garrett's involvement in all this really that bad?"

Francis opened his mouth to speak, but huffed out a breath when he was lost for words. Claire saw his hesitance and stepped in. "The whole situation is bad. We're not sure how bad it is yet, but it's already bad news and could get substantially worse." She cupped James's face in her hands. "Once we get back, the detectives on the case will most likely come by to ask you about what they have found. Your father and Doug will have found new information. With the amount of attention circling you and my job title limited to First Lady as of right now, we'll both be useless around here until then."

Leaning closer, Francis kissed his daughter's cheek and bent down slightly to meet her eyes. "It's not a punishment. We're just trying to protect you for as long as possible. Besides, our things will be moved into the White House tonight. By the time you come back, the staff will have arranged your room for you."

James sighed, crossing her arms over her chest in resignation. "When do we leave?"

"As soon as you get your bags packed and say goodbye to Doug." Claire stated. "There's a plane waiting for us. I've already called your school. They were more than understanding under the circumstances."

James rolled her eyes as she walked away. "They should be kissing my feet. I lost my virginity for this country." She smirked when Francis cringed. "Congrats again, Daddy."

Claire grinned as her daughter left her and Francis's temporary bedroom before turning to her husband, seeing his discomfort with his daughter's words. "Oh, quit with that face. This job is already turning your hair gray. We don't need the worry lines to start too." She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning against him slightly. "I don't know if she'll really enjoy these days away from home."

"I suggested the Gaffney house." Francis brought up again. "I can make one phone call, and it will be ready for you."

Claire shook her head. "No, the press will expect us to go there. I haven't been to my mother's since before James was born. There's privacy there." She pressed her forehead to his, sighing contently when his arms wrapped around her waist. "But, my mother is also there."

"Just don't let what she says get to you. You know where you stand. She can't tell you that you're a horrible wife or mother or anything. You're far better than she's ever been." Francis said, trying to soothe his wife's nerves. He pecked her lips, knowing that his words wouldn't do much when it came to her mother. To say their relationship was strained was an understatement, and he loathed the woman for making his wife doubt herself when it came to being a human being. "You swore that you would never let your relationship with our daughter be anything like your relationship with your mother. James adores you."

Claire smiled, happy that she had at least completed that goal. It was the one thing she had been terrified about all through her pregnancy. Despite how different her mother and her were, she was worried that her mother's examples of motherhood would somehow leak into her own. She was forever thankful it hadn't. "Well, she'll probably hate us both for taking her to meet her grandmother."

Francis laughed, causing her to smile. "She'll get over it when she comes home to the White House and her bedroom is already set up for her. Twice the size of the one she has now." He pulled back from her and smiled when she caressed his cheek. "There's still time to change your mind. It doesn't even have to be the Gaffney house. You could go anywhere."

"No," Claire shook her head, "if I take our daughter somewhere even remotely exciting, she'll attempt an escape. At least, I know all the ways to escape that house. I can keep an eye on her. I don't know if she's fully processed what all has happened yet, and we'll need her in the right place if we're going to tell her about Garrett and Gordon once we return."

Francis nodded, knowing that the information would be a lot for his daughter to take. "We'll take it by day. You update me on our girl. I'll update you on what Doug and I find out about the Walker family."

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	39. Chapter 39

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"So, what exactly is she like?" James asked Claire as they sat together on the plane. It had been the first time either of them had spoken since leaving Francis and Doug back in DC a few hours ago. Journalists had nearly attacked their car as they left the safety of the Vice President's residency, and it had taken longer to get to the airport to ensure that nobody was following them. The brief experience had left them both a little paranoid as they boarded their plane.

Claire looked up from her book, pulling off her glasses to gaze at her daughter. "My mother?" James nodded, curling up into the leather seat opposite her. "Well, she's all tough love I guess you could say. She's a strong woman, but I wouldn't say she was the best mother. I was much closer to my dad. When he died. . .there wasn't much reason to stay in Texas."

James bit her lip, debating her next words. "Is that why I haven't met her? Or, is there some other reason?"

"There are lots of reasons why you haven't met her." Claire confessed, setting aside her things and leaning forward in her seat. She rested her elbows on her thighs, giving James her undivided attention. "My mother used to blame me for a lot of things that really weren't my fault. This whole thing with Gordon for example, she'll blame you for putting yourself in a vulnerable position. She'll most likely say that you were asking for it." She reached out, playing with James's hair. "But, she's been like that since I was a little girl."

James teared up, thinking of her mother being put into a situation like she was describing. She remembered the dirty and rotten feeling she had telling her parents about Gordon even though she knew they would be behind her with whatever she had to go through. "Did she do that to you?"

Claire nodded slowly, seeing the heartbreak in James's bright blue eyes cloud over. "James, my mother blamed me for multiple assaults that I had to endure by boys who didn't care who they hurt. By boys who thought they deserved more than I was willing to give to them. My mother did a lot of damage. There weren't any ifs, ands, or buts about it. She'd tell me the way I dressed brought on assaults or the way I acted. God forbid I actually flirted with a boy."

James let out a shallow breath, her body trembling slightly. "She's horrible." She quickly wiped at her eyes, not wanting to show up in Texas with clear evidence that she had been crying. "I didn't know you had to grow up with that."

"I know." Claire whispered. "I didn't tell you for my own personal reasons. But, that isn't the reason why you haven't met her." She felt her throat close up slightly when she could see her daughter struggle to keep her composure. Reaching out, she took James's hand into hers and tugged gently. "C'mere, baby."

James nearly curled into a ball on Claire's lap, clinging to her mother as if she could disappear if she let go. "How did you live through that?"

Claire smiled gently, stroking James's head comfortingly. "I had my dad, and then I met your father. His tough love approach is a lot different, and I know your father loves me. With my mother, it was never easy to figure out." She leaned down, resting her cheek on James's forehead. "When your father and I decided to have you, we called my mother to tell her. I thought she'd be at least a little happy that she'd be getting a grandchild. She surprised both your father and I by wishing you would die." She squeezed James against her. "She told me that I'd make a terrible mother, that I couldn't take care of myself. She said your father would make a better messenger for Satan than a dad to you. To say the least, she didn't want us to have you."

"Why didn't you kill me?" James asked, truly curious. "I know Daddy didn't want me. I know you weren't a stranger to abortions. You've told me about your past. Your mother all but called the devil himself. Why didn't you?"

Claire caressed her daughter's cheek, nearly cradling her head against her shoulder. "We wanted our legacy to be more than just us, your father and I. But, we scheduled an abortion. A doctor actually came to the house and was about to perform the procedure when I suddenly felt the overbearing urge to keep you. I couldn't describe the feeling, and your father was beyond confused at my sudden change of heart. He still wanted me to go through with the abortion, but he did come with me to my first ultrasound. I don't know what we were looking for, but I almost think we were hoping for either a miracle or a tragedy. Truth be told, it wasn't until we heard your heartbeat that we knew we couldn't get rid of you. The doctor, we had, found it and told us how strong your heartbeat was. He knew our political fields and goals and said that our little baby had a heart for running in politics. He was blowing smoke, but it hooked us. Your father was mesmerized."

James smiled slightly. "If I had come out a ballerina, Daddy would've killed the doctor."

Claire laughed, relieved that some of the tension had been broken. "If you decided to become a ballerina tomorrow, he would buy you a dance studio. He's been wrapped around your little fingers since the day you were born. He'd do anything to make you happy."

They sat for a moment in silence, absorbing the information shared and the fact that they were both alive and with each other. The world had seemed to be against their existence to one another, but they had fought against it and won. Even now, the world around them was swarming around them just to hear a sentence about how the Underwoods were handling these days of stress and relief.

James squeezed her mother's hand, laying her head on Claire's shoulder. "I don't want to call her grandma."

"You don't have to." Claire shook her head. "After this weekend, I don't expect her to be anyone to you. I'm not taking you to meet her because I want you two to get along. I'd rather you didn't."

James frowned. "Then, why am I finally meeting her?"

"You've proved to your father and I that you are well on your way to making a name in politics. Having chips to further your career is always helpful." Claire began, playing with James's hair again. "Elizabeth Hale is your birthday present. At any point in your career when you think you can use her to your advantage, you have your father and I's blessing to do so, even if that means the nation needs to mourn her death."

* * *

James gaped as they drove up the driveway to the Hale Estate. "This place is huge."

Claire chuckled seeing her daughter's complete shock over the place she grew up. It was rather exciting to finally have the chance to show her daughter where her roots were, where her father gave Francis and her a chance, sending them off to North Carolina to tour the state for campaign trails. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"It is. It'd be prettier in white." James smiled, halfway joking. "If only it were in Washington."

Claire chuckled behind her as the driver pulled up to the front doors of the house. She leaned closer to James. "We can vacation here whenever you want. Now if you want to leave at any point this weekend because of her, just let me know. I won't make you stay here. I just want you to have a stress free weekend away from the press and the politics. I think we've had enough of that lately."

James looked at Claire over her shoulder before kissing her cheek. "Dealing with her might be good practice for all those dinners Daddy will be having at the White House. God forbid I have to make nice with the Russian President."

"Let me deal with him." Claire smirked before the door was opened. She climbed out of the other side and walked around the car to join her daughter at the front steps. "This place is just as much yours as it is mine. Daddy left me the house when he died, so this is your home too."

"Thank you, Grandpa." James grinned before Claire took her hand and led her inside the house. She was in awe the moment they stepped into the grand foyer. It had a very similar feeling to walking inside the White House, and her mother's thirst for Oval Office became a lot more apparent. Oddly enough, she felt right at home in the Texan home that her mother grew up in. "Mom, this place is gorgeous."

Claire wrapped her arms around James's shoulders from behind, grinning as she looked around her childhood home. "I'm glad you like it. C'mon, let's unpack and then I'll give you the grand tour."

Both women felt the hairs on the back of their necks stand up when they heard the piercing voice of Elizabeth Underwood from the top of the staircase. "Well, look who finally decided to stop by. It only took sixteen years for my slut of a granddaughter to come and meet me." She began her descent down the stairs, her heels clicking on the tiles.

"Says the old hag who couldn't get on a plane to visit her granddaughter in D.C." James replied with a smirk. Her tone was pure innocence, but she looked like the child of Claire and Francis Underwood with that smirk. She slipped out of Claire's arms and crossed her own over her chest. "Hello, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "You know they say that the young should respect their elders. I am your grandmother after all."

"That's still up for debate." Claire stated calmly before Brighton walked in with a few of their bags. "Thank you. They can go upstairs, second door on the right. James and I will sort things out shortly." She watched as he left to go upstairs before turning back to her mother. "Hello, Mother."

Elizabeth scowled as if she had been burned. "Haven't been here in nearly eighteen years, and that's all you have to say to me. You come in here and you act as if this place is still yours."

Claire forced a small smile. "It is mine, and I would have no problem throwing you out if you cause too many problems." She rested her hand on the small of James's back. "Not that you ever asked, but this is James."

"I know her God damn name. The whole country knows her name!" Elizabeth bellowed, tossing her arms up in the air. "Her affair with the President. I remember when all you wanted was to keep her out of the spotlight. Nobody outside of your precious inner circle knew her name. Most people didn't even know she existed. The thought of Frank having a child was too traumatic for them to wrap their minds around."

James chuckled darkly. "I would've loved to see their faces when they found out." She smirked at Elizabeth. "I'd imagine your response would be worth everyone in Washington, tenfold."

Elizabeth scoffed. "You little shit."

"James," Claire began, trying to hide how proud she was in that moment, "why don't you go upstairs and start unpacking? I'll be up in a moment." She squeezed James's wrist reassuringly before waiting for her to disappear upstairs. Her gaze turned to her mother, the pride turning disdain. "Don't swear at my child."

"Like Satan's little girl would take a curse word or two as an insult." Elizabeth huffed out with a wave of her hand.

Claire stepped up to Elizabeth, staring down at her. "Satan doesn't hold a candle to Francis." She leaned into Elizabeth, her lips close to her ear. "Call my child a slut again, and I will personally make sure your days, even after I leave, are worse than any hell you could imagine." She kissed her mother's cheek before heading towards the staircase herself. "I'm going to unpack. We should be down shortly for dinner."

Elizabeth huffed out a breath. "Fine, do what you want. You always do."

* * *

"We're adjusting." Claire smiled as she looked over her shoulder to see James staring wide-eyed at the guest bedroom. With Claire in her childhood bedroom, James had opened up the door to the room across the hallway to find a collection of China dolls crowding the room. "James didn't miss a beat when she met my mother."

Francis grinned on the other line of the phone, sitting at his new desk in the Oval Office. "I bet she didn't. How was the flight?"

Claire turned back to her bags, pulling out some of her clothes to put inside her dresser. "We talked a little bit about my mother and why they haven't met before today."

"How much did you tell her?" Francis asked, freezing in his chair.

Claire sighed. "I didn't give her all the details about me, but I told her what my mother said during that phone call. I didn't tell her everything she said, but I summed it up with enough detail." She glanced back at their daughter, watching her move around the guest bedroom with ease as if she had been there a million times. "She hated my mother before we landed in Texas. Elizabeth calling her a slut the second we walked through the door only solidified her opinion."

Francis's fingers clenched into a fist on his desk. He knew Claire and James could handle an Armageddon situation like Olympians, but he didn't feel comfortable with them in the line of fire, even if it was just verbal. "I'm sure it's her favorite birthday present then." He looked up when Doug walked in, a stack of files in his arms. "As for Garrett, we haven't found anything to tie him to Gordon's plans. There isn't anything in his past to indicate he would be in on it."

Claire bit her lip as she sat down on the end of her bed. "He isn't going to help us with this. We need to go about this at a different angle. What about Trisha." She gazed up at the ceiling, already forming a conversation to play out in her head. "She'll be so distraught. She'd feel guilty about Gordon's abuse to James. It might just work. Her friendship with me has been stable through her problems with Garrett."

"If we tread carefully, we could learn more about both of them." Francis agreed before knocking his ring twice on the desk. "Why don't you call her tonight? I'll call for an update tomorrow morning."

"Alright, did you want to talk to James?" Claire asked, standing up and glancing back in at the guest room.

Francis shook his head as Doug laid down files on his desk. "I'll call her tonight before she falls asleep. I'm sure she'll be raving over the house."

Claire laughed with a nod. "She had the same look she did the first time we took her inside the White House." She paused, her smile slowly fading. "I love you, Francis."

"I love you too." Francis smiled, his southern drawl thicker than usual. He hung up the phone before looking back at Doug. "Any news?"

Doug shook his head grimly. "Nothing on Garrett, but the detectives did stop by with copies of Gordon's journal. They are bringing in Gordon's detail from that night for interviews tomorrow." He set down another file. "They sent over the pictures he had of James as well. Copies, of course."

Francis observed Doug for a moment as he slid the file into a pile of work he planned on taking back to the private sector. The man looked like he'd been to hell and back, almost ready to tip over. "You looked through the files, didn't you?"

Doug didn't nod or confirm Francis's statement for a moment. "I marked all the places I think could be potentially harmful to James. The photos are mainly of her walking around school or getting into cars with you and Claire. He didn't have access to her. He just had her followed for an extended period of time." He glanced down at his watch. "Is there anything else, Sir?"

"Why don't you stay with me in the private sector tonight? Stay in James's room. I'm sure you'll be staying with us more often from this point forward." Francis suggested, pointing over towards the door off his office. "Might as well start bringing things in discretely. It would make James happy, and you can spend some time with her now that our workload will be substantially heavier."

Doug's lips curled up the slightest, but he shook his head. "I don't want to intrude. I know that our relationship is still new to you and Claire."

Francis nodded his head, aware of the gut-wrenching feeling he had thinking of James and Doug together. But, this wasn't about him. "It's not an issue, Doug. Claire and I discussed this before she and James left for Texas this morning. Despite what my daughter endured during her days with you, you have shown us that you genuinely care about her. Hell, you looked as broken as I felt when we first found her." He drummed his fingers against his desk. "You truly love her, don't you?"

"I would die for her, Sir." Doug said without hesitation. "If she needed me to die instead of Meechum. I would've gladly done it. I'm glad that I didn't need to do that though."

Francis grinned, a chuckle escaping his throat. "You plan on marrying her."

Doug smirked. "When the time is right, when a campaign really needs it, we'll make America think we're the royal couple."

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	40. Chapter 40

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James walked out of the attached bathroom to her room when her cell phone rang on the nightstand. When she saw her father's name on the screen, she answered with a smile. "A call from the President, how exciting."

Francis laughed on the other end of the line, sitting in bed with his glasses on the end of his nose and laptop in hand. "Hello darlin', glad to see your sense of humor hasn't dulled since your arrival in Texas. How's it going?"

James rolled her eyes, curling up onto the bed. "I like the house better than I like Elizabeth. If I didn't love the house, I would've already asked Mom if we could leave." She ran her hand down her ponytail, playing with the ends of it. "I learned a lot today."

"That's what your mother said when I talked to her." Francis sighed, scratching his jaw. "She's a strong person, your mother. Stronger than anyone gives her credit for. She's had to deal with a lot, from myself as well. But, I know treating her like China won't get me anywhere. Reminds me of a certain sixteen year old I know."

James chuckled. "You always said I was Momma in brunette packaging." She huffed out a breath. "I do miss Washington though. The buzz, the news. I feel like I'm in a retirement home here." She turned out the lamp and laid back upside down on the bed. "What are they saying about us anyway?"

Francis looked back at his laptop. "Right now, everything is speculation. The only interesting story is from a Zoey Barnes. Her article alludes to the idea that I only got the Presidency because Gordon Walker kidnapped you. She questions whether or not I'm ready to the President after going through the trauma of finding you in the White House." He scoffed, shutting the computer down for the night. "If only she knew."

James smiled, happy that her father's southern drawl was in full swing as he spoke. She knew he tried to cover it up slightly in public, but he didn't mask it when he was talking to her or Claire. "I think she called to do an exclusive interview. It's gutsy considering what she's written in the past."

"We like gutsy." Francis hummed, sensing his daughter's admiration for the quality. "When you get back, we'll talk about possible exclusive stories. Right now, I just want you to focus on you and relax. You've been more wound up that me the past few months." He took off his glasses, tossing them aside on the nightstand. "Just lay low and take it easy, for all of us. There's a world waiting for you when you get back."

James smirked. "I think Doug should take you to see a doctor. You never tell anyone to do nothing. I'm an Underwood. We don't do uselessness well."

"Well, tonight, for you, I'm prescribing it." Francis said, pointing his finger at her form on the screen. "I know you better than any doctor. I remember the first cold you got. Your mother and I took you to the emergency room, and this nurse said you were fine. Next day, a different nurse told us you needed to be admitted for early stages of pneumonia. Your mother and I knew there was something more than just a cold."

"And, I bet you made the hospital fire the first nurse." James laughed, knowing her father's habits like the back of her hand. She wasn't oblivious to what he did when it came to securing the future or the family. As long as she didn't see it, she didn't question him about it.

Francis scoffed. "I made sure that nurse didn't work in another hospital after that." He shook his head, running a hand down his face before meeting James's eyes. "I should let you get some rest. I'll call you tomorrow when I get the chance. Please behave and stay put."

"Alright," James yawned, grinning when she remembered Francis's story about her birth. "Goodnight, Daddy."

"Goodnight, darlin'."

* * *

Claire checked to see the lights off in the guest bedroom where James was staying. Satisfied that no one was around, she locked her door and retreated to the comfort of her bed, pressing her phone to her ear. It rang a few times when the other line picked up. "Claire?"

"Hi, Trisha." Claire breathed. "I'm sorry to call you at such a late hour. I just. . .I wanted to call and give my condolences. Despite what happened, I would never wish for any parent to lose their child." There was a long pause, and Claire half wondered if Trisha had hung up the phone. "Hello?"

"Sorry, Claire, I'm just shocked that you actually called to say that." Trisha stated. "Thank you though. It's been hard. Outside of the family, everyone has been saying our son deserved to die for what he did. I guess I just assumed you and Francis would feel the same, especially when it was James found in his room." She sighed, her breath trembling. "I'm sorry too. I'm sorry for what Gordon did to James. I know an apology doesn't do much after the fact, but it's all I can offer right now. The detectives on the case are calling for Garrett constantly, and he's been avoiding coming home at all."

Claire frowned, anxiety building in her stomach at the idea that Garrett was wandering around when he was the one who could've stopped all of this from happening. "Trisha, have they told you anything about Garrett's involvement?"

Trisha paused again, her eyes widened. "What are you talking about?"

"James remembered her stabbing. She remembered Gordon. Garrett paid off his detail that night to keep quiet about the whole incident." Claire stated. "I think the detectives said almost two hundred thousand of his personal funds were used."

"Oh my God!" Trisha gaped, gasping at the notion of her husband being involved in the horrible crimes her son was already found guilty of. "They haven't said anything. Whenever they call, they never answer any of my questions to be honest. I don't even know what they collected from his room."

Claire looked down at her free hand. "Well if the cops haven't told you, I don't know if I should."

Trisha paused for a moment. "Claire, please. I know that Gordon turned out to be a monster, but he's still my baby boy. I want to know what was going on his life, because I don't seem to have a clue as to what his world actually was."

"They collected a lot of evidence." Claire breathed, almost feeling bad for what was transpiring. Almost. "Gordon had James followed. They recovered dozens of pictures of her. from a private investigator I would assume. He stole the one from Francis's office. The campaign photo that drove Francis insane when it went missing." She took a shallow breath, the weight of the last item still hitting hard. "There was also a journal. Gordon detailed everything he wanted to do to James inside it. I don't know what it says though. I'm not sure I want to know."

"Me either." Trisha choked out. She sniffled. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be bothering you with all of this. Here you are asking about my son, and I haven't even asked how James is doing. She's the biggest victim of all of us here. I can't imagine what she went through. I mean, seeing her injuries when she was discovered."

Claire shook her head. "No, it's okay. It seems you've been in the dark as much as the rest of us. James is doing as best she can with everything that's happened. Francis and I agreed to get her out of D.C. for a couple days to get away from the press. It's almost sick how the calls for interviews were coming in within an hour of her discovery." She bit her lip. "Did you notice anything with Garrett or Gordon? Everything that happened, Gordon couldn't have funded all of that. To be honest, we're all still trying to figure out Gordon's motive behind kidnapping James."

"I know Gordon wanted to go out with James, but that's about it. Ever since Garrett's election win, he had lost all interest with other girls." Trisha sighed, shrugging her shoulders. "For a while, I thought he was in love with her. I thought we'd be in-laws. How wrong I was." She paused. "As for Garrett, I just know that he was very wary about Gordon's date with James. But, I was kept in the dark, and I let it be that way. Gordon needed a man to be his role model, and that was Garrett. The night James was attacked, we saw it on the news. You know, the clip of Francis carrying in James. I remember thinking it was odd how tormented Garrett was about it, but he nearly dragged Gordon from his bed to go visit her in the hospital."

"Yes, I remember Francis saying they came by. We didn't let anybody see James in the hospital." Claire pinched the bridge of her nose. The information that she was gathering wasn't exactly what she was hoping for. "I understand what you're going through. We're just all grasping at straws here. James, Francis, and I are lost on why he would do something like this. Why he had a fixation on James. We're all stumped. I guess Francis and I are more curious as to how a sixteen year old could pull all of this off without some outside help."

Trisha let out a small, brief chuckle that sounded more defeated than joyful. "I'm curious to see how this all pans out. You know of Garrett and I's problems. He's been shutting me out since he won the election. If he had something to do with this, I don't know if I'd be surprised. If I hear or see anything, I will call you and talk to the police, Claire. I want answers just as much as you do."

"Thank you, Trisha." Claire smiled. She frowned when she heard piano keys though. "I should probably let you go. It's late, and I should check on James."

"I would tell you to say hi for me, but I don't know if that would be a wise choice." Trisha sighed.

Claire opened her door and saw light peak onto the hallway floor from the chandelier lights from the floor below. "It's hard to tell."

* * *

Claire walked into the family room and smiled seeing James sitting at the piano in her pajamas. Her hair was up in a messy ponytail, and she was completely focused on her fingers as they moved on the piano keys. Slowly walking over, she wrapped her arms around James's shoulders, stopping her from playing for a moment. "What are you doing up so late?"

"Avoiding the forty sets on doll eyeballs in the guest bedroom. I feel like I'm going to be apart of the most childlike murder or something." James chuckled, reaching up and squeezing her mother's arm. "I saw this when we were touring the house earlier. I haven't played since Christmas break."

"I know. I always loved it when you played piano." Claire breathed before sitting down next to James on the bench. "Your father and I used to have to practically tear you from it so you'd go to bed."

James laughed, running her fingers gently over the keys without playing them. "It's calming. It also filled the silence when I was younger and you and Daddy were at some dinner or party. He and Doug both seem to think I need a break from the life I'm creating at the moment."

Claire nodded. "Agreed." She brushed back a few strands of hair that fell out of her daughter's ponytail. "Is there a reason as to why you feel the need to do something calming?" She saw James's eyes sadden before sighing. "What I told you today, I've dealt with it, baby. The girl that I was - she's gone. It's like taking old clothes and shipping them off to charity."

James shook her head. "You dealing with what happened. . .what did happen. . .I get it. Our experiences are different, but I understand the feeling. I know you, Mom. I know that you're okay. If you weren't, you'd be making things okay." She met her mother's eyes, shrugging her shoulders. "I just hate that you didn't have someone. When Gordon stabbed me, I knew I was coming home to my parents who would do anything to protect me and who wouldn't blame me for what happened." She curled up on the bench, hugging one of her knees to her chest. "It just makes me sad that you were probably scared to go home because of your mother. I've never had to worry about that, and I'd feel crushed if I had to start."

"You'll never have to worry." Claire said, comfortingly. She rubbed James's back. "I may not have had a great mother, and, yes, I was often scared to come home because of her. But, I don't feel that way anymore." She kissed James's cheek. "I smile coming home everyday. I know your father is there who keeps me involved in everything. I know that you are there and turning out like your father and I more and more everyday. Despite how much we tried to avoid that, I wouldn't change you one bit. I never thought I'd get to be a mother, let alone have a daughter I'm lucky enough to call my best friend."

James smiled, laying her head against Claire's shoulder. "You're a good mom."

Claire grinned and hugged James sideways, a warmth spreading in her chest. The world, even her own mother, could tell her that she was a horrible mother. As long as her daughter thought she was doing a good job, it was all that mattered. "Thank you." She glanced back at the piano and nudged James's forehead with her nose. "Play me something."

"What do you wanna hear?" James asked, moving both her hands to the piano.

Claire couldn't wipe the smirk off her face when a twinge of southern accent laced her daughter's words. She was definitely Francis's daughter. "Anything."

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	41. Chapter 41

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Claire opened her eyes and sighed quietly seeing James fast asleep next to her. After playing the piano and goofing around for a while, James had nearly begged not to be in a room filled with Elizabeth's China dolls, and Claire didn't feel like being apart from James after going without her for five days. She smiled remembering the days when James was younger and would constantly want to sleep in bed with her and Francis. It took them months to finally rid her of the habit. Now, Claire was missing those days. Despite the frustration and the inevitable exhaustion that would ensue the next day, there was always a sense of ease knowing their daughter still wanted to be near them.

 _"Mommy?" Six year old James whispered, a stuffed animal shark tucked under her arm. She gently shook Claire's arm to wake her. "Mommy, I can't sleep."_

 _Claire struggled to open her eyes, yawning as she reached out for James. "Baby, why can't you sleep?" She stroked her daughter's cheek in the hopes of calming her down enough to go back to her room without realizing she had wanted to stay with her and Francis. The little girl stared back at her, eyes wide and shining from the moonlight pouring in over her from the window._

 _James rested her arms on the bed. "I had a bad dream. Those mean people were trying to hurt Daddy. They were going to run him out of town like those people outside say." She grabbed the sheets and pulled herself up onto the bed, huddling against Claire. "It was scary, Mommy."_

 _Claire sighed, stroking James's back. The past few times she and James had tried to leave the house, they had been bombarded with reporters asking about Francis's newly appointed position as the House Whip. Although she had gotten better at dealing with them, it still scared James to have all those cameras flashing at her. It didn't help that she had been to Francis's office a couple times and ended up hiding under his desk when he got into a heated conversation. Many of Francis's co-workers didn't even know she was in the room. Therefore, their attitude towards Francis didn't ease up with the little ears present. "I bet it was scary, but look. Daddy is here. He's fine. He just sang to you for a half hour to put you to bed a few hours ago. We're alright, baby."_

 _"But, I'm all alone in my room." James whined, hugging her shark against her chest. "I want to sleep in here."_

 _"No." Francis chimed in, his eyes still closed. He groaned softly as he looked over at his daughter, perched on the edge of their bed. "You get that nice bed all to yourself, so you can twist and turn all you want. Daddy already has enough bruises from the last time you slept in here."_

 _James crawled over her mother, straddling her father's stomach and looking down at him. "But, you said you love me more than sharks love blood. Don't you want to be with me, Daddy?" Her bottom lip pouted out, her big blue eyes like a puppy's._

 _Claire had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing as Francis smiled, not believing his daughter was using his feelings against him. He sat up, holding onto her under her arms to adjust her on his lap. "You are good." He hugged her against his chest and kissed the top of her head. "You are definitely taking after your mother."_

 _"Hey!" Claire protested with a chuckle. "You do that too."_

 _Francis rolled his eyes but turned his attention back to his daughter. "Darlin', you gotta sleep in your own room. I want to spend all the time I have with you, but I can't. There are other people that need me too. And, Mommy and I like to sleep alone together in here. That's why we got you that big bed in your room with the canopy and the mountain of stuffed animals I can't seem to convince you to get rid of."_

 _James crossed her arms over her chest, her shark sitting on the bed beside her. "But, those people are mad at you, Daddy. I don't want them to be mad at you. They were mean. You say we protect the family. I can be here to protect you."_

 _Francis smiled and pressed his forehead to hers. "That's very brave of you, but Daddy can handle those_ _mean, mean people. It's part of my job. It's Mommy and I's job to protect you. Part of that is making sure you have enough sleep in your own bed."_

 _Claire leaned over, resting her chin on Francis's shoulder and brushing back James's hair from her face. "That's right. We're glad that you want to help protect us, but there's nothing to worry about, baby. We're all okay here."_

 _"So, I think it's time we head back to your own room now." Francis said with a slight nod._

 _James let out a whine as her shoulders slumped. "Fine. Can you at least tell me a story though?" Her eyes brightened at the idea, her hands clutching onto her shark once more in excitement._

 _"How about you tell me a story?" Francis suggested as he stood up with his daughter perched on his hip. He yawned and gave Claire a goodnight wave before turning to leave the room._

 _James grinned. "Alright. Can I be President in the story?"_

 _"What would I be doing?" Francis asked, curious in his groggy state._

 _"You can be my secretary." James stated proudly._

 _Francis furrowed his eyebrows together, but chuckled when he heard Claire crack out a laugh from behind him. "Which secretary? Defense? State? Please, don't say agriculture."_

 _James laid her head on Francis's shoulder with a yawn. "The one that types up my schedule for the day."_

 _"Well, that doesn't seem like the greatest job for Daddy. Why give me that job?" Francis asked as he laid James down in her bed, lifting the covers over her._

 _"Mommy is the Vice President. I can't have two of them, Daddy." James stated as if the answer had been obvious from the start._

Her eyes moved down to James's neck, cringing when she saw the bruises from Doug's hands on her otherwise flawless skin. It only served to remind her of her conversation with Trisha last night and the fact that those bruises were from the man who would most likely become her daughter's husband. Not wanting to dwell on her thoughts, Claire grabbed her phone and dialed Francis as she retreated to the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

Francis drank his coffee at the small kitchen table, reading the paper, when Claire's name popped up on his ringing phone. He quickly answered the call, pressing the phone to his ear. "Morning, Claire. It's nearly eight o'clock."

"James and I were up later than usual." Claire stated with a smirk. "She was drawn to the baby grand piano in the family room."

Francis grinned behind his coffee cup. "I forgot all about that thing. Probably has it on her Christmas list already." He took a sip of his coffee before setting the empty mug aside. "Did you get ahold of Trisha?"

Claire sat down on the edge of the tub, moving as far from the door as she could. "Yes, and I don't think she's hiding anything. The cops haven't told her anything either. When I asked her about Gordon, she just said that Garrett handled things with him, and that Gordon became fixated on James after Garrett won the election. Garrett and she weren't getting along when they were in the White House. They kept things from each other. I wouldn't be surprised if this were one of the things he kept from her."

"Well, I know she's telling the truth about Gordon's fixation. His first journal entry about James is from the night of the election win. He talks about asking her to dance, but we left before he had the chance to get her out on the dance floor." Francis huffed out, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. "I don't even think I got three pages into the journal entries the detectives brought over."

"It's that bad." Claire asked with wide eyes.

Francis stood from the table, buttoning his blazer jacket. "If he had actually gone through with what was on those three pages, James would've been admitted to an insane asylum. What he wanted to do. . .he'd basically be torturing her. In his sick mind, he thought they would have a happy life together." He shook his head as he moved about the kitchen. "It was almost like reading the diary of Manson or Jim Jones."

Claire bit her lip, her eyes squeezing tight trying to get the images out of her head. "I bet you didn't get much sleep last night."

"I got more than Doug." Francis sighed, glancing out towards the living room to see if his Chief of Staff was around. "He went through every photo and page of the journal yesterday to flag things he thought might set off James. He even took notes and started cross referencing them to see if we could find anything related to Garrett. He did find out that Garrett paid for the person who took photos of James, but Gordon says in his journal that he lied to Garrett about what the photos were for."

"He still paid for them. He had to have known at some point what the photos were." Claire reasoned, leaning back against the wall. "Trisha hasn't seen Garrett in days. The detectives are looking for him, but he's running, Francis. He's guilty of something more than what we know."

Francis clenched his hand into a fist, restraining himself from slamming it on the counter. "He'll pay for it all."

* * *

James squinted against the sunlight as she slowly made her way downstairs in shorts and a sweatshirt. The house was completely silent, the opposite from how her mornings usually started out. The news that erupted during the night was the talk every morning unless there were more pressing matters. The quiet was something unwelcome, but neither was the voice that broke it either.

"No wonder that boy was after you. If you're dressing like that, you're just putting yourself up for advertisement." Elizabeth scolded as she breezed in from the living room. "With bruises like those, you should be covering those legs anyway. It looks like you were in a God damn rodeo and the bull won."

James rolled her eyes. "If I were up for grabs, I'd be standing on a street corner, not in the school parking lot in my uniform." She ignored her grandmother's presence and continued into the living room, seeing their detail still parked just outside the front door. "You should be nicer to your family. They're the only ones you have left in the world."

Elizabeth huffed out a breath. "My family includes you and Claire, and you two parade around like you own the world. Like you're entitled to something."

"Well, I deserve a kinder grandmother; that's for sure." James retorted before finally looking at Elizabeth. "And, I don't think the world owes me anything. I work my butt off to get what I want, and so do my parents. What you perceive as entitlement is actually confidence in our own abilities."

Elizabeth was fuming. "You better treat me with some respect, little girl. You may not know me, but I'll sure as hell make you remember me."

James smirked. "Is that a threat?" She slowly approached Elizabeth, standing taller and glaring down at her. "I don't take kindly to threats. If you don't believe me," she let out a short chuckle, "my parents are my role models. You can figure it out."

"That's rich. Coming from the girl who was kidnapped and raped for five days thinks she can take on the world." Elizabeth laughed before pointing at James's neck. "Those bruises should remind you that you are nothing more than a girl who is out asking for trouble."

Claire's clicking heels broke the two out of their argument. "Mother, you should know by now that the media only knows what we want them to know." She walked over to James, wrapping an arm around her daughter's waist. "In this case, that information needed to get out so that Francis could take office."

Elizabeth's eyes widened, her brows lifting in shock. "That bastard made her go through all of that just to become President."

"I masterminded it." James smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. "With some help from Mom and Dad. So, don't cross me. I'm an enemy you don't want to have." She slipped from her mother's arms and walked into the kitchen in search of something to eat.

Claire shook her head with a smile at her daughter's demeanor. James had definitely been listening to her and Francis for all these years. When she looked back at Elizabeth, her smile faded. "Francis and I would never put her in that position. She took the initiative, and Francis and I helped her with it. As for you telling her that the whole thing is her fault, which I'm sure you already have, I don't want you telling her that anymore. You blamed me enough over the years. I won't subject my daughter to your cruelty."

Elizabeth waved off Claire, retreating to the stairs. "You two are so full of crap, even the cows smell better. What happened to you, whatever happened or didn't happen to James, you two deserved it. You are despicable, just like your husband. I told you that you wouldn't make good parents. I was right. Your daughter is just like you two. She'll destroy anything in her path, and she won't trust anybody other than herself."

"I'm proud of who she is, and she has Francis and I. I trust her and Francis more than anyone else, and James has someone as well." Claire replied calmly. "Don't pretend to know anything about me or my family."

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	42. Chapter 42

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James scrolled through her phone, reading the headlines about her kidnapping when she felt the couch dip behind her. She looked over her shoulder, smiling when she saw Claire behind her with a stack of books. "Finally decided to start reading again, huh?"

Claire chuckled. "No, these are my yearbooks."

"Oh my God!" James gasped before turning on the couch and nearly crowding her mother into the corner of it. "I wanna see your freshman year photo. It's never good." She pulled the earliest year from the pile and quickly flipped through it before finding her mother's photo. "What the hell? You're gorgeous."

Claire scoffed. "I am not."

James rolled her eyes. "Only pretty people would say that. You're one layer of eyelashes short of Malibu Barbie." She looked back at the yearbook, taking her time with the pages in search of more photos of her mother. "What were you like in high school?"

"Far more naive to the world than you are now." Claire sighed before pointing to a picture and smiling. "I nearly ran that boy over when I was a junior. A couple friends and I went out to a movie, and he tried to scare us. He nearly peed his pants when I hit the gas pedal." She played with James's hair as she continued to look through the books, making comments about the clubs she used to be in or the clothes she used to wear.

After a while, James cocooned herself between Claire and the couch with the college booklets in hand. She yawned as she started paging through, smiling when she saw pictures of both her parents together. "Daddy looks like a nerd. Look at his hair!"

Claire laughed with a nod. "I know. He used to have a lot of it. It's longer than mine now." She giggled when she saw the first photo of her and Francis together. They had been dating for a few months and decided to make it official around the time of that photo. "He was a smooth talker though. He knew what he wanted, and he didn't sugarcoat anything for me. And, he decided that he wanted me."

"How did he propose?" James asked, shifting her head to look up at her mother.

Claire grinned, wrapping her arm around James's torso from behind. "I remember his exact words." She rested her chin on James's head, letting her fingers gently graze the inside of her arm. "He said, 'Claire, if all you want is happiness, say no. I'm not going to give you a couple of kids and count the days until retirement. I promise you freedom from that. I promise you'll never be bored.' And, you know he was the only man, and there were a lot of others who proposed, but he was the only one who understood me. He didn't put me on some pedestal. He knew that I didn't want to be adored or coddled." She lifted up her arm around James and showed her the set of rings on her finger. "So, he took my hand, and he put a ring on it. Because, he knew I'd say yes. He's a man who knows how to take what he wants."

She smiled against James's hair. "And, he's kept his promise. I've never been bored. Despite his opinion of children, we have a beautifully smart and conniving teenager." She chuckled with James at her own words. "That's how he proposed. He didn't really ask. He knew I would go with him anywhere."

James closed the college booklet and set it aside before hugging Claire's arm against her. "That's actually beautiful."

"You'll have to tell your father that when we go home." Claire breathed, her lips curling on the ends. "He'd like that." Thinking back to her own proposal got her thinking about James's impending proposal. "A couple months ago, you asked me how I knew I had to have your father in my life. You were talking about Doug, weren't you?"

James played with Claire's fingers, running her own over the wedding band. "Yes, I was."

"Have you decided if you need him yet or not?" Claire asked, curious and nervous for the answer her daughter could give.

"I can live just fine without him." James sighed. "But, I don't want to. I love him. I'm part of something bigger when I'm with him. I'm happier with him."

Claire hummed softly. "I've noticed." She maneuvered the both of them so they were looking at each in the eyes. "Just make sure you both want the same things out of life. I know your professional goals line up, but I'd ask about the personal wants. Your father and I were all over the place about children until we had you. But, the most important thing for you and for him, do you think you'll ever be bored with him?"

James chuckled, shaking her head. "I would never have time to be bored with him." Both of them looked up when they heard James's phone ring on the coffee table. Reaching for it, James saw Doug's name on the screen and smiled. "I'll be right back."

Claire watched as James jogged out of the room before pressing the phone to ear. Looking back down at the college booklet, she smiled running her finger over Francis's picture. "What are we going to do with her, Francis?"

James rounded the corner as she answered the call. "Doug, is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me." Doug grinned, a sense of relief evident in his voice. "I would've called sooner. It's just been so crazy around here handling your father's new role and the press." He sighed, looking down towards the floor. "How are you holding up?"

James bit her lip, glancing towards the foyer to make sure no one was nearby. "I miss you." She wrapped her free arm around herself, her hand cupping her shoulder. "Elizabeth Hale is not what I expected. I understand why my mother is the way she is a lot better now. How are things going there? I know that the detectives have probably stopped by with some of the evidence they gathered from Gordon's room."

Doug paused, debating how much he wanted to tell her about what he saw. He couldn't sleep the night before because of what he read. If James knew what he really planned on doing, he didn't know how she would handle it. "Yes, they came by with his collection of photos and his journal pages."

"How bad is it?" James asked, biting her thumb as she sunk down the wall. "Is it stalker bad or serial killer bad?"

"James," Doug whispered, "it's serial rapist bad. He was really messed up. Your dad and I are tracking down leads and verifying information." He glanced over at his desk towards the file that had all the evidence inside. "Did something happen at Garrett's party the night he won the election? Gordon mentions something about wanting to dance with you, but he didn't get the chance."

James thought back to the night they were all celebrating. She was happy to see her parents relaxed for once, thinking that Francis would be placed in the Secretary of State's office within the next few days. It had been a night full of laughs for the family of three, and she and Doug had just told each other the three special words a few days prior. "That time was just a whirlwind. With Daddy preparing for his new job and our relationship becoming more complicated by the day, I don't remember much from the party."

Doug pursed his lips together before he opened the folder. "Let's see if I can jog your memory." He filtered through the papers and found the first entry, the paper already creased from both himself and Francis gripping the pages with white knuckles. "This was his first entry. 'Tonight, Dad won the Presidency. His party was boring to say the least, but James Underwood and I talked for a while. The bright spot of a very dim night. She seemed distracted though. When I asked her to dance, she didn't seem to know I even said anything. Before I could capture her attention again, her father came over and announced they were leaving to head home. She walked away without even saying a simple goodbye. She completely ignored me, and I don't even think she realized she was doing it."

"He couldn't have been upset for all this time because of that." James reasoned, shaking her head. "Does he say anything else?"

"Not in that entry. He does mention asking you to the winter dance in December, but you told him you had a boyfriend." Doug said, riffling through more of the papers. "That's my bad."

James laughed. "I wouldn't have it any other way." She let her head drop back against the wall, closing her eyes. "Is that it?"

Doug plopped down in his chair. "As far as interactions with you go, that's pretty much it. I can't tell when his interest in you turned dangerous. It's almost like he just concocted the whole thing out of thin air. He wanted you, and you declined him twice." He leaned back in his chair. "I'm trying, baby."

"I know you are." James breathed. She looked over when she saw a shadow flicker across the wall in front of her. Claire stood in the small hallway corridor with her arms crossed over her chest. She looked worried, but she kept a distance. "Has Daddy seen the pages yet?"

Doug glanced at the TV, seeing the chief of police making a statement about Gordon being the kidnapper of James Underwood. He and Francis had carefully manipulated him to say what was needed and conceal what they could for now. The country only needed to know of Gordon right now. Garrett would come soon enough. "He read through most of it. I cleaned up most of the mess, but I'd wear shoes around the private sector until we're sure all the glass has been picked up." His tired eyes opened when he heard his office door open. Francis walked in, motioning for them to end their work for the day. "I have to go, but I'll talk to you tomorrow."

James smiled, rubbing the back of her neck. "Alright, I love you, Doug."

"I love you too." Doug smiled before hanging up.

"What did Doug have to say?" Claire asked after a moment of silence.

James stood up and pushed back the strands of loose hair that threatened to fall in her eyes. "Not a whole lot. He's trying to protect me. I guess he and Daddy are having troubles figuring out when Gordon became more than just interested in me." She looked down at her phone, the screen dark now. "The only thing they found is that I didn't pay attention to him at Garrett's election party and declined his offer to go to the winter dance."

"Do you remember anything weird with him?" Claire asked with a shrug. "Something small. Did you have a study group together? A class?"

James sighed. "We have four classes together." She bit her lip, trying to think of anything that would set him off. "Math, English, Science, and Home EC."

Claire smiled. "You're in Home EC?" She tried to conceal her chuckling. "Like cooking and taking care of fake baby dolls."

James blushed with a roll of her eyes. "It was either that or being a teacher aid for the four year olds. I didn't have great options." She huffed out a breath and shook her head before remembering one of the projects they were paired together for. "We did have the baby doll project together. When we got our doll, he gave me this weird look and said 'imagine if this was our child.' I told him that I would never carry his child."

"When was that?" Claire asked, pulling out her phone and already typing in Francis's number.

"A few weeks after Garrett won the election. Right before Christmas break." James stated, the realization dawning on her. "Holy shit."

Claire held her phone out once it started ringing, placing the device on speaker. When the ringing stopped, she didn't even wait for a greeting from her husband. "Francis, I have you on speaker. Do you have Gordon's journal pages near you?"

Francis frowned as he grabbed the folder from his drawer. "You aren't going to make me read any of this over the phone to our daughter, are you?"

"No, we want to check something." James explained. "Do you have anything just before Christmas break?"

"December, December. . ." Francis mumbled as he sorted through the pages. "The last entry for December is the sixteenth." He frowned. "He wrote in his journal everyday. The next page after the sixteenth is January third." He leaned back in his chair. "What exactly am I looking for?"

Claire closed her eyes, trying not to register the words she was speaking. "Gordon and James have Home EC together and they-"

"Wait a minute!" Francis interrupted. "My baby girl is in Home EC?"

James rolled her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Not the headline of this conversation, Daddy."

Claire smiled briefly before getting back to what she had to say. "They were partnered together for the baby doll project, and James told him she'd never have his baby when he made a comment about being parents together."

Francis leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes through his eyelids. "If that was his trigger, you do realize what that means, right?"

"Yes, we do." James sighed, wrapping her arms around herself. "Can't believe I didn't see it before."

Francis frowned. "Hey, hey, darlin', none of us saw this coming." He looked back down at the folder. "I'll call the detectives. We're missing pages, and I want to know exactly what we're up against." He began sorting the papers, shoving them back into the folder. "You two get some sleep. I'll call you before you take off tomorrow." He hung up the phone and pressed another button on his phone. "Doug." He hung up the phone before Doug came in a moment later.

Doug had his tablet in hand and cell phone in the other. "I was just heading to the private sector, Sir."

"We might have just found out why Gordon was after James." Francis blurted out, standing from his desk and motioning for Doug to follow him. "I think that bastard was trying to make me a grandfather."

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	43. Chapter 43

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Claire walked into the guest bedroom to find James packing up the last of her bags. She had a dress laid out to change into, knowing that someone was bound to see them land in Washington or photograph them arriving at the White House. "That's a cute dress."

James smiled before returning to collecting her things. "It's the only thing I own that's First Daughter quality, but it also isn't flashy, too scandalous. Navigating the aftermath of this will be tricky, and the media is going to crucify me either way."

"Well, why don't you wear one of my dresses?" Claire suggested with a hint of a smirk. "It's time for the country to see the true James Underwood. And, fuck the media. We both know the only time they are attacking us is when we aren't giving them information." She took James's dress from the bed and packed it into her bag. "You can wear my navy blue one."

"Like that will purify her image with the public." Elizabeth huffed from the doorway. She glared at the two younger generations. "The country knows the little slut was with Walker more times than Bill was with Monica. She would need to become a nun before the country would see her innocence again."

James rolled her eyes. "Please, Catholics are the dirtiest minded people I know. The world thinks I was held against my will, not shacking up with the President's son. With the evidence found in his room, there wasn't much work to do to make them believe it."

Claire reached out to James and squeezed her shoulder comfortingly. "Why don't you go change? Your father is expecting us home soon." She watched as James breezed past Elizabeth, disappearing into her room across the hall. Her eyes moved to her mother. "Gordon Walker did stab her. When that whole story came out, it went nationwide. You didn't even call to see if she was okay."

"Your husband nearly barreled into the hospital with her on the news. If she wasn't okay, he was going to make her okay." Elizabeth stated. She shrugged her shoulders. "I haven't been in her life at all. I didn't meet her until this weekend. Why would it have mattered if I had called or not? It's not like you and Frank want me in her life."

"You told us you'd rather her be dead before she even took her first breath. There is a reason for that, so don't play the victim." Claire snapped back. She began collecting more of James's things, reminding her of the numerous trips her and Francis used to take with their young daughter.

 _"James, baby, what do you want to bring with you?" Claire asked walking around her daughter's room with a suitcase laying open on her new big girl bed. "You can only bring one stuffed animal."_

 _"But, Mommy!" James exclaimed, throwing herself onto the bed as if the world was ending. "You can't possibly make me choose."_

 _Claire chuckled at her daughter's newfound word of the week - possibly. "You are sounding more and more like your father everyday. But, this isn't a discussion. You can only bring one. There isn't enough room in your bag to bring all of them. We need to pack clothes and a couple bedtime stories. Daddy already called the hotel so the mini bar would have that juice we usually get for you here. You need to compromise with me here."_

 _"Compromise?" James asked, her eyebrows furrowing together. "What does that mean?"_

 _Claire picked up the four year old and let her rest against her hip. "Well, it means that we both make sacrifices to make each other happy. Daddy and I make them all the time. It's like when Daddy plays games with you. He plays with you as long as you help him with his speeches or let him be alone in his office for a couple hours to work."_

 _James sighed. "Do I have to do that now since I'm a big girl?"_

 _Claire smirked and kissed her forehead. "Probably." They both looked over at the door when Francis tapped on the door frame twice, a grin a mile wide plastered on his face. "What?"_

 _"Have we picked out a stuffed animal yet?" Francis asked, his other arm discreetly holding something behind his back._

 _James frowned. "No, Mommy said that I could only take one with me."_

 _"Well, I think I know which one." Francis smirked before stepping inside the room and swinging his arm around. In his hand was a large stuffed shark the size of James, complete with three fake rows of teeth. "You know how I always tell you how I love you more than sharks love blood, darlin'."_

 _James squealed as she reached out for the shark, hugging it to her chest when Francis handed it to her. "Thank you, Daddy."_

 _"You get it on one condition. The other stuffed animals have to go." Francis bargained, raising his eyebrows towards her._

 _James squeezed the shark tighter to her chest and reached out to Francis. He gladly took her, letting her rest on his hip. "How about we only get rid of a couple? It can be our compromise."_

Claire's fingers skimmed the zipper of James's bag as her heart constricted painfully in her chest. "My daughter has survived a great deal in her life, most of it because of Francis and I. We knew what we would be putting her through, but we've done as much as we could have to protect her. James deserves a grandmother. She deserves the world, but. . .you don't deserve to be her grandmother. And as long as Francis and I are breathing, you won't ever get the chance to be that for her. Any contact, any event, that you have with her will be carefully monitored and orchestrated where you'll be nothing more than a witness. Only a prop to prevent a story in the news." She lifted the bag from the bed and walked past her mother. "And, you will be nothing more than a pawn to her."

Elizabeth turned as Claire continued past towards the staircase. "The day will come where she chooses to cut ties with you, just like you have with me. Whether it's something you do or Frank does, she will become what you are to me - a stranger."

* * *

"When did this happen?" Francis asked, glaring from the picture to Doug and trying to piece a plausible timeline together in his head.

Doug pinched the bridge of his nose, avoiding the picture laying on his boss's desk. "The day James and I got into a fight about Gordon asking her out. It was stupid, and it got out of hand fast. When James said she was going to go out with Gordon, I went a little crazy. We were dealing with Peter and-"

"Don't make excuses." Francis gritted out before slamming his hand down on the open file. "A prostitute! You claim to love my daughter, and you toss that aside for a fucking blowjob."

"It meant nothing. I took care of it. She's across the country now. She won't be a problem." Doug retorted. "Look, I know it's bad. I screwed up."

Francis stood from his desk, peering out the windows behind his chair. "Does James know about your encounter with this Rachel?"

Doug gulped with a shake of his head. "I was going to after she had gotten out of D.C., but then Gordon attacked her. It's been on the back burner since. Things keep coming up, more information comes to light." He rested his hands on his hips. "I took every precaution though. I do plan on telling her. It's the when I'm still trying to figure out. I'm keeping secrets for both camps. I'm just trying to keep everything straight." He huffed out a breath. "Sir, you've known me longer than James. I think you'd know by now that I would never do anything to hurt you and especially not James."

"I know you never would intentionally." Francis relented. "But, I don't know what to believe from you anymore. Essentially, a year of secrecy going behind my back to be with James. The excuses. The lies." He clenched his fingers into fists, keeping them at his sides. "Now, we're all keeping secrets from James. You two are keeping secrets from Claire and I. Lord knows what James is keeping away from all of us. Despite our intentions, she ended up just like the three of us. We told her the right ways of the world, but she saw us in our world."

The phone rang on Francis's desk, cutting through the tension between the two men. Moving to the desk, Francis slapped his fingers against the intercom button. "Yes?"

"Sir, the First Lady and Daughter just arrived. They are on their way up."

Francis moved to the folder containing the pictures of Doug with Rachel. He closed it and handed it over to Doug. "Take care of this. James doesn't need to see that. Telling her will be hard enough. She's still only sixteen. Now, go make sure James's room is presentable and all of the evidence from the police has been cleared out of the residence."

Doug quickly left the Oval, leaving Francis alone to stand next to his desk and wait for the rest of his family to join him. He took a deep breath before the door on the other end of the room opened to reveal Claire and James. He grinned seeing them after the couple days of torture he had. "Well, where on Earth did my little girl go? She's all grown up."

James blushed before hugging her father tightly. "I missed you too, Daddy. Mom let me wear her dress."

"And, here I thought you'd be thrilled with what I found when they moved our things in." Francis teased, moving behind his desk and pulling out the stuffed shark he got James all those years ago. He chuckled when her eyes lit up. "But since you are a full grown woman now-"

James snatched the shark from her father, hugging it against her side as if carrying a toddler. "You are never too old for a stuffed animal, especially one that's this cute and special." She pecked Francis's cheek. "You got this for me."

Francis smiled, keeping her close to him. "I remember well. I gave it to you and then you lectured me about compromising. A word no longer in any of our dictionaries unless we are dealing with each other. Even then, it's hard to come by." He kissed her forehead and glanced her over. The bruises on her neck were still evident, but they weren't bright purple and red like they were when they found her. Her legs were still bruised and cut and cringeworthy, but she stood with pride. "How was your stay with Elizabeth? Your mother told me you didn't take any guff from her."

"I threw more shade at her than you tossed to Garrett the whole duration of his Presidency." James smirked.

Claire chuckled with a nod of her head. "She could give us a run for our money, Francis." She cupped his face in her hands as his pulled her closer by her waist. She felt the stress of her weekend leave when he pressed his lips against hers, allowing their foreheads to rest against each other's when they pulled apart. "Hi, by the way."

Francis grinned and pecked her lips again. "Hello to you too." He took a moment to take her in, noticing the little things he did when she was stressed or tired. He glanced over at James. "I'm assuming you'd like us to let you go so you can go see Doug." He saw her smirk before jutting his chin towards the door. "Go ahead." He waited until James left the room before returning his full attention back to Claire. "What happened?"

"You'll think it's stupid." Claire breathed with a shake of her head. "I'm fine, honestly."

"What did _she_ say to you?" Francis asked, making it clear who he was referring to.

Claire sighed and ran her fingers under the lapels of his jacket. "I know that my relationship with James is a thousand times better than my relationship with my mother ever was. She doesn't know what kind of mother I am." She bit her lip, debating her next words. "But, she said something that fits the bill for all of us." Her eyes met his, seeing the confusion swirling on his face. "Everyone in our lives that threaten the future we aim to achieve have been destroyed by us trying to distance ourselves from them. If our secrets come out, if our lives come out, James would do the same thing to us. I wouldn't blame her. Francis, you and I have done some horrible things in our lives. At the time, they were needed and necessary. But, they could sever ties with James if the world ever discovers who we really are."

Francis caressed her cheeks, letting his thumbs run along the stress lines to help relax them. "That could happen, but we will do everything in our power to make sure that doesn't happen. James will too. We have been careful with every move, every choice that we have made. It was meticulously thought out and planned before execution. We have our stories lined up and our t's crossed." He hugged her against his chest, rubbing her back soothingly. "We're ten steps ahead of the world, remember?"

"And, if we miscalculated?" Claire questioned against his shoulder.

"I would never allow the country to separate us from our daughter." Francis stated as if declaration. "If they ever try, they will all be sorry."

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	44. Chapter 44

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Doug waltzed into his office, closing the door behind him, and moved behind his desk before seeing the familiar face sleeping on his couch. He smiled as he slowly made his way over to James. The marks that littered her body only reminded him of what he had done, but she was the poster child for peace and innocence. He crouched down beside her and gingerly brushed the strands of hair away from her face as his eyes landed on the stuffed shark she was using as a pillow. His attention was brought to his hand though when James's fingers tangled with his.

Her eyes fluttered open before she smiled at him. "Hey."

"Hi." Doug grinned back at her before pecking her lips. "It isn't safe for you to sleep in my office, especially with everything that just happened."

"You gonna kick me out of your office?" James asked with a smirk.

Doug shook his head and jutted his chin towards her. "Scoot over." He crawled onto the couch next to her so they were laying face to face, her body between his and the back of the couch. "It's not easy sleeping alone when you're used to somebody sleeping next to you."

James rubbed his eyelids when they closed, noticing the bags under his eyes. "The way it sounds, you wouldn't have gotten much sleep even if I was here." She cupped his face in her free hand, feeling the stubble that had grown since he last shaved. "I'm here. I'm okay, Doug. Because of your help, I'm not in his hands."

Doug wrapped his arms around her, tucking his face into her neck and inhaling. "Knowing and feeling are two different things. Feeling you here is a lot better than just knowing. Although, you probably didn't have the best weekend either."

"I bet mine was still better." James chuckled with her arms around his back. "Where are the files, Doug? I should see them."

Doug shook his head. "Not now. Let's just have one night where we aren't talking about the Walkers. It's your first night in the White House as the First Daughter. I'm not traumatizing you during that." He pulled back to rest his forehead against hers. "Besides, the rest of the pages are being dropped off by detectives tomorrow. They'll want to question you more when they come."

"Then, I should try to enjoy tonight while I can." James smiled before kissing him.

* * *

Claire followed Francis into the private residence and chuckled seeing the unpacked boxes of personal items he had told the movers not to bother unpacking. Thankfully, they were labeled and it wouldn't take long for Claire to organize things the way they had been at their townhouse. "I'm surprised you even survived without James and I."

Francis replied with a fake laugh. "Very funny. I figured you and I should go through it together. We both knew where everything was before. Some of this stuff may just be trinkets, but it's more important than ever that we know our surroundings."

"It looks like most of this hasn't been touched in years." Claire stated as she opened a box and uncovered a pile of books that had a layer of dust on them. "Our yearbooks. I showed them to James over the weekend. My mother had copies at the house."

Francis looked over Claire's shoulder to see the page she was looking at. "I needed a haircut."

"Your daughter thought the same thing." Claire laughed before setting the book aside. She pulled out the next book and grinned seeing it was a photo book from when James was just a toddler. "Well, this brings back memories."

"She certainly didn't like to wear pants. I remember we had to put bibs on her when we went out in public." Francis chuckled seeing a picture of two year old James in a sweatshirt, diaper, and his sunglasses. "We would find her pants everywhere but on her."

Claire giggled. "She still doesn't like to wear pants, but she's ladylike about wearing dresses now."

 _"Claire," Francis's voice sounded as he walked into the kitchen. He held up a small pair of leggings with cartoon puppies splashed all over them. "She's gone rogue again. I swear. We need to put a belt on that girl."_

 _"Where did you find them this time?" Claire asked. She stood from the barstool and took the pants from him._

 _Francis smirked. "In my briefcase." He couldn't help but smile when Claire laughed outright. "It's not funny. What if I was in my office during a meeting when I found them? I'd have a lot of explaining to do. We try to keep her out of our professional lives as much as possible."_

 _Claire shook her head. "I know. It's not, but it is." She folded the leggings and set them down on the counter. "Well, she's probably hiding now because she doesn't want to put them back on. Her favorite place has been her bedroom lately."_

 _"I'm on it." Francis said before grabbing the leggings and heading upstairs. He avoided the creaky floorboards before slowly opening the door to James's room. Sure enough, James was hiding in her room. Not well though. She was babbling underneath her crib, her bare legs sticking out from underneath it. He tossed the leggings aside before gently grabbing her legs and pulling her out from under the crib. She squealed with laughter as he picked her up. "Got you!"_

 _"Daddy!" James giggled with her tiny sunglasses on. "You scare me."_

 _"I scared you." Francis laughed as he carried her out of her room and towards the stairs. "You scare me, darlin'. I can't seem to keep you in a pair of pants." He watched as she took off the glasses and hooked them in the neck of his t-shirt. "Are we going to the beach?"_

 _James smiled as Francis walked over to the foyer table and grabbed his sunglasses before slipping them onto his nose. They were the large, square black ones she had seen the men in suits outside wear all the time. She took them off his face before putting them on herself. "Mommy! Beach!"_

 _"Beach? Why should we go to the beach?" Claire asked walking out of the kitchen. She chuckled seeing the sunglasses nearly falling off her daughter's face while her glasses were hanging from Francis's t-shirt. "Well, now I see why." She looked to Francis. "Where did you find her?"_

 _"Underneath her crib with her legs sticking out." Francis smirked before setting James down on her feet. "I think she purposely meant to do that as if to brag that we can't get her to wear pants."_

 _"If any child were to do that, it would be ours." Claire stated with a smirk._

"She's definitely ours." Francis breathed before pulling more photo books out of the box and starting piles to organize everything. "The last time we did this was when we moved into the townhouse."

Claire hummed her agreement with a smile. "That was when you became House Whip. There's probably a lot here we've forgotten about." She put a stack of books on one of the shelves, happy that the residence was starting to feel a little more like home, when James walked in with Doug following by the hand. "There you are. Your father and I were just going through some of your old photos."

Francis nodded, sitting down on the couch and opening his arm. When James sat down next to him, he wrapped his arm around her and kissed her head. "And, reminiscing over your rebellious attitude towards pants." He glanced at Doug as he sat down on the couch opposite them. "Where did you two end up this afternoon?"

"Oh, just figuring out the right number of favors to use up to make your first one hundred days as President are worthy of the Underwood name." James smirked, hugging her father's arm around her.

"How many did you use up?" Francis asked, wondering what they could've possibly come up with.

Doug smirked. "We gained five."

Claire chuckled and rested her hand on Doug's shoulder. "Why don't you join us for dinner? It would be nice to have everyone together at the table. It will probably be the last time for a while."

"I'll cook." Doug offered, standing from the couch and heading towards the kitchen.

"I've got a better idea." Francis stated before grabbing his phone.

* * *

"When is the last time we've ordered pizza?" Claire asked as she grabbed another piece from the box on the coffee table.

Francis finished off his third, wiping off his fingers on his napkin. "Too long." He looked over to James, smiling when he saw her sitting at the piano the residence already had. They had all changed into more comfortable clothing and decided to allow themselves one night of shutting out the rest of the world. Doug sat next to James, listening to her as she tried to teach him how to play. "How's it going over there?"

"We've got one line of 'Ode to Joy'." James chuckled before sitting on her heels on the bench seat. "Daddy, we should do this for one of your State dinners. I could find a song for us. There aren't many people who know you play."

"That's not a bad idea." Francis smiled. "Just make sure the song is appropriate." He stood from his seat and closed the empty pizza box before taking Claire's bare plate from her. "I think I'm going to call it a night. It's going to be a long day tomorrow.

Claire stood as well, moving towards their bedroom door. "I think I'll join you." She looked over at James and smiled. "Happy to be home?"

"Never happier." James grinned before feeling Francis kiss the top of her head from behind. She looked up and chuckled when he kissed her forehead. "Go. Have fun making out with Mom."

Francis rested his hand on his daughter's forehead. "Are you alright? I think your visit messed with your head, because that is the first time you have ever told me to go fool around with your mother."

James gagged and shrunk away from his touch. "Gross. I said make out."

"You know your father doesn't do anything half way." Claire smirked from the doorway as Francis joined her. She laughed when James coughed from another gag. "Get to bed soon. Goodnight, sweetheart."

"Goodnight, Doug." Francis nodded before he and Claire disappeared into their room.

James shook her head with a smile despite herself. Her eyes met Doug's as she straddled the piano bench. "I guess you'll probably head home now too."

Doug mirrored her position, turning himself so he was straddling the bench in front of her. "I'm already home." He grinned at the confusion that flooded her features. "Your dad had me move into your room while you and Claire were away this past weekend."

"You're here?" James asked, wide eyed. When Doug nodded, she nearly lunged on him, hugging his neck with both her arms tightly. One arm wrapped around her while the other grasped onto the piano to keep himself from falling backwards. "I can't believe they actually let you move in here."

"Well, I'm not completely in. For appearances, I'll still have to keep my apartment, and I'll stay there every now and then. But for the most part, I'll be here next to you for as many nights as you want me." Doug explained before pecking her lips. "It's you and me now. No more sneaking around. Well, not from your parents. To the rest of the world, we'll still be two people who just happen to know each other."

James smirked. "They'll never know what hit them." She stood and tugged on his hands, stepping back towards her bedroom. "C'mon."

* * *

Claire breathed deeply, resting her hands on Francis's chest. His resided on her hips, holding her still on him as they both began to calm down from their highs. She could feel his heart drum against his chest under her hand, and it gave her a strong sense of pride to know she caused it. "I guess that answers my question."

"Sorry, what was your question?" Francis asked, his southern drawl a little stronger with his breathlessness.

"I asked if you missed me while I was gone." Claire smiled before they both broke into a fit of laughter. She rolled off of him and laid on her back, resting her head on his arm when he extended it out to wrap around her. "I almost forgot I asked."

Francis grabbed a cigarette from the nightstand and lit it before handing it to Claire, watching as she took a drag and blew the smoke up into the air. He kissed her hair. "Yes, I missed you. It was a long weekend without my girls."

Claire handed the cigarette back to him, feeling the stress of his weekend in his voice. "How bad is it, Francis?"

Francis exhaled sharply, a stream of smoke rolling up towards the ceiling. "It's worse than everything we've done combined, and we apparently don't have the worst of the pages yet. If I had known about this before it all blew up, I don't know if I'd ever have enough time to hurt Gordon the way I want to. I sure as hell wouldn't have let James go through with this whole stunt as brilliant as it was."

"We still have Garrett. He knew more than he let on." Claire reminded him. She turned over, resting her chin on his chest. "We'll make everyone involved pay. Whatever it takes. I know you'll do what's needed."

Francis handed the cigarette back to Claire. "The other night when James asked us if we ever felt remorse about killing people. . .did it worry you when she didn't feel remorse for killing Gordon? Isn't it normal for someone to feel bad about killing someone even if they deserve it?"

"Probably." Claire breathed. "But, she felt bad about Meechum having to die. I wasn't worried about her. What you said to her, I agreed with it. We've both had our share of lives taken. Some I felt bad about. Some I didn't. I don't regret any of them. I'm happy with what we have right now. Anything different in the past would alter our present, and that's something I would regret doing." She studied his expression for a moment, waiting for his response. "Why do you ask?"

"I don't feel remorse or regret or even remotely bad about any of the people who suffered from my hands." Francis stated. "Every time I've taken someone's life, I always had you and James in mind. I knew that if they weren't handled they would destroy the future I had planned for us, the future you two deserved. Some of them weren't even that. They were just people who decided to hurt one of you."

Claire pressed her lips to his, stroking his cheek. "I'm not surprised you don't feel bad about any of it. You did it for us, for our family. You've always had the ability to make a decision and push through it before walking away. It's always been something I've been drawn to."

Francis chuckled. "Really?"

"Really." Claire smiled herself. "Even the way you proposed, you made the decision and put everything into it. If I said no, you'd walk away like nothing happened."

"Good thing you kept the ring on." Francis said. "I don't think I could've just walked away from you. You remember how I proposed, right?"

Claire leaned over him and put out the cigarette in the ashtray on Francis's nightstand with a grin plastered over her face. "I do. I told the story to James over the weekend. She thought the way you proposed was sweet."

Francis groaned through a laugh. "Oh Lord, there's the blood test. Only she would find my proposal sweet."

"Well, it worked on me." Claire smirked before pulling the covers up over them, curling up into Francis's side. "We should get to sleep. The detectives are going to be here early, and I'd rather get to them before they get to James."

Francis rolled his eyes before his sarcastic drawl filled the silence. "Say more things like that. It'll soothe me to sleep."

Claire chuckled against his chest. "Goodnight, Francis."

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	45. Chapter 45

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Claire walked back into the private sector after her early morning run around the mall. With her water bottle pressed against her lips, she nearly choked when she saw Doug walk out of James's room in his pajamas. "Doug?" He turned to her, but he didn't look like a deer in the headlights. He looked as if he was perfectly fine with this altercation. "How did you sleep?" Despite her burning desire to ask him why he had stayed overnight, she swallowed the question.

"Very well, thank you." Doug smiled before pointing towards the kitchen. "I was about to make some coffee. Want a cup?"

"I might be a while, but, yes." Claire nodded and gave him a small smile. "Thanks." As he shuffled into the kitchen, she strode into her and Francis's room, quickly finding Francis singing in the shower. She shut the bathroom door and shed her own sweaty clothes before joining him. "Francis?"

Francis turned, slightly surprised to see Claire. "I don't think we've done this since James was little. We probably would've ended up in the hospital if we had done this back at the townhouse."

Claire shook her head. "Why is Doug here? He just walked out of James's room."

Francis sighed, handing her the washcloth he had been using. "I might have told him he could move into the private sector with us so he could spend more time with James." He quickly spoke again when he saw Claire's outrage. "I know I should've talked to you about it, but we both know he adores her. As much as it makes my skin crawl to know he's sharing the same bed with her, it's better for us in the long run."

"How?" Claire asked before stepping under the spray of the water. She crossed her arms over her chest as Francis wound his hands around her hips. "Francis."

He leaned in and pecked her lips. "If he stayed at his apartment, James would want to spend every free moment of her time with him. Our workloads are insane, and they aren't letting up until somebody not named Underwood runs this country. With him here, we'll still have her. It will be just like it was last night. We still have our daughter." He leaned in and kissed her again, longer this time. "That's not even the best part."

"I haven't heard a good enough reason for our sixteen year old daughter to be having her boyfriend stay with her who is more than twice her age." Claire stated with a roll of her eyes.

Francis smirked. "When she turns eighteen, she won't leave." He saw the spark behind Claire's eyes. "With Doug eventually getting rid of his place, this is the only safe haven for her. She will be stuck here. She loves it here so much - she won't even realize that we've set this all up so we never have to let go of our baby girl." He tugged at her wrists, pulling them away from her chest, before he pulled her flush against him. "Good enough?"

Claire paused for a moment, staring back at Francis. "What about college? We both know she'll want to go. We can't expect her to do online schooling."

"Pretty sure the commute to Georgetown wouldn't be that bad with her own motorcade. Besides, the White House is better than a dorm any night of the week. I'm not saying that he's a good idea, but he's another reason for James to stay with us as long as he's here." Francis explained before shrugging his shoulders. "I may love him like a brother, but he will never have more of James than us."

"And if by some chance they break up?" Claire questioned, her eyes squinting in a challenge.

Francis kissed her and pressed her back against the wall. "We fire Doug, make James our Chief of Staff. With Doug out of the picture, we're the only two people on this planet she trusts enough to live with. She's ours, Claire." He grinned when Claire eventually cracked a smile before cupping his face in her hands and pulling him back against her.

* * *

Claire exhaled sharply as she stared at the plethora of papers spread out on the Oval Office coffee table. Francis sat across from her, his hands clenched together as if he were repenting for his sins. "This is sick, Francis."

"I know."

"He was obsessed with her." Claire stated with a shake of her head, trying desperately to find some logic in the madness displayed before her.

"I know." Francis repeated. "I can't imagine how much worse those other pages could get." He started collecting the papers together to put back in the file the detectives brought over. "Doug made notes for the pages that he thinks James could handle with ease. I don't want to show her any of them though."

Claire bit her lip as she watched Francis organize the journal entries and pictures back into chronological order. "We have to show her all of them."

Francis dropped the file back onto the coffee table before turning to Claire, eyes wide. "What? This will destroy her."

"She's a lot stronger than you give her credit for." Claire reminded him before standing herself. "I'm not saying it will be easy, but she needs to read all of it. Whatever she learns from it will help her when she tells her full story to the cops. The public thinks she spent five days locked in Gordon Walker's bedroom in the White House without anybody noticing she was in the most secure building in the country. She's the First Daughter now. Between the media and the cops, her days with Gordon are going to be ripped apart. These pages will help her prepare for that."

"Those detectives are on their way here at this moment. She doesn't have time to get through all of this by then. We don't even have all the pages." Francis explained, moving towards the windows behind his desk to look out at the city of D.C. "Those pages would be beneficial for her story. I agree with that. But, her knowing what Gordon planned on doing to her might show her just how close she came to being what the country thinks she is - a victim."

Claire walked up beside him, resting her chin on his shoulder. "Francis, he stabbed her in the back of a secret service vehicle and let her bleed out for twenty blocks. He did that because he wanted something she wasn't willing to give him. He terrorized her with his knife collection in this very office, and he used Garrett to harass us into attempting to visit her at our house. She's already a victim. Those pages will remind her how lucky she is that she got out while she did." She kissed his cheek. "They'll startle her. They might even traumatize her a little. You haven't slept for two days because of them. I doubt I'll be sleeping anytime soon. But, we can't keep her in the dark about this. Not when it's this important."

Francis sighed, his shoulders slumping knowing that this battle was being lost by logic for him. The line between necessary and protecting always seemed to blur when it came to Claire and James, but he was lucky enough to marry someone who could pull him back to the basis of logic to move forward with what was needed. "I guess we should talk to her. Her answers with the police today need to be limited."

* * *

"Ms. Underwood." Detective Patrick Barkley greeted with a nod before giving a curt smile to Claire. "Mrs. Underwood, you remember my partner, Detective Vera Hines."

Claire shook both their hands. "Of course, you two were a great help to my daughter's return home according to your Captain. I can't thank you enough." She rested her hand on James's shoulder, pulling her slightly closer to her. "My husband told me that you had some more questions you wanted to ask James." She reached out her hand, gesturing for the two detectives to sit down. They accepted the invitation before Claire and James sat down across from them.

Detective Hines nodded. "Yes, the day you were found was a whirlwind, and we thought it best to give you the weekend with your parents before asking about your time with Mr. Walker." She looked to Claire. "Has she seen the journal entries yet?"

"I know about them." James stated, a little angry that the detectives were acting as if she wasn't there or needed Claire to be some type of translator.

Claire squeezed her daughter's hand. "We've told her about them, but she hasn't seen them. I took her to Texas to get away from everything for the weekend. We just got back yesterday, and we didn't want to bombard her with those details. The media is already harassing her. I won't allow it while she's home."

"Of course. Alright, we'll start out with some easier questions." Barkley stated before opening up his notepad. "Did Mr. Walker ever verbalize or show any signs that he wanted to be something more than a friend to you? Did he threaten you before this incident in any way?"

"He was just weird." James breathed out, her eyes glazing over as if in a trance. "He had asked me out once before, but I was seeing someone at the time. In our Home EC class, he and I were partnered together for the baby doll project. He made comments about the baby someday being our child or imagining it was our child. He was just creepy about the things he said and did."

"Your boyfriend - did he and Mr. Walker ever get into any arguments or altercations of any kind?" Barkley continued.

James shook her head. "We kept our relationship pretty quiet, so I don't think he even knew who I was dating." She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back against the couch. "Do we really have to go through all of this? It's not like you're wondering if he's innocent, right?"

Hines shook her head. "No, we have no doubt in our minds that he's guilty of all of this. We're just trying to connect some dots and maybe get some answers so this doesn't happen to another girl. We think he brought you in during the gala Friday night, but he bypassed all White House cameras on the way to his room. If he hurt other women, maybe your story will help them come forward."

"What happened when you were first taken from the school parking lot?" Barkley asked, taking his cue from Hines explanation to keep going with his line of questioning. "The fire alarm had been pulled at the school while you were in Home EC. At your station, a fire started next to Mr. Walker. We believe he started it to create the situation for your capture. When we got to the school, they said that you were pulled into a car before it peeled out of the parking lot."

James nodded and hugged herself. "One man pulled me in while the other drove. I tried fighting him, but he tied my hands together and blindfolded me. I didn't know where we went or who they were." She teared up. "He held a cloth up to my nose before I passed out. Next thing I remember was waking up in Gordon's closet in that red tablecloth."

Hines cleared her throat. "That's a three day window we're missing."

"I was told that when you guys found me." James nodded, gulping.

Hines held a pen to her notepad. "Just tell us whatever you remember. This is really important, James. Gordon didn't act alone in this, and the others involved need to be found and charged with this as well. Just try to think back."

James let a few tears fall, shaking her head. "I don't know! I don't remember anything. I just remember coming to in his room with nothing but my uniform shirt on." She snapped before covering her face in her hands. "I'm sorry. It's my fault I can't remember."

"Baby, shh, it's okay." Claire whispered, tearing up as she wrapped an arm around her daughter. She pressed a kiss to her hair before glancing back at the detectives. "Is this really necessary considering the evidence you already have? Half of her absence is a black hole and the other half she'd rather forget."

Barkley sighed and pulled out his business card, resting it on the coffee table. "We have a pretty good idea, but we need her statement. We'll come back tomorrow. There's still plenty to look through at the station. If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to call me at any point." He and Hines both stood. "It isn't our goal to make you relive everything, Ms. Underwood. We're just trying to do our jobs."

Hines rested her business card on the coffee table as well before looking to Claire. "I would advise she not see the journal entries until we get her statement and she's more emotionally stable."

Claire held James tighter as the two detectives left, despising the way they handled the situation and her daughter's reaction. When she heard their footsteps downstairs on the tile, she leaned down and kissed James's head again. "They're gone, sweetheart."

"They need training on how to speak to victims." James stated as she sat up, wiping her fake tears with a tissue. "They made my statement about them, not to help me or discover the truth. Maybe that could be my project in the State Department, working with local police."

Claire chuckled. "There's the devious daughter I raised." She brushed back James's hair, gazing at her softly. "Doug is looking over the new entries now. Your father said he should be done with them in a couple hours before we have you go through them."

James huffed out a breath. "What if there isn't a reason?" She saw the confusion on her mother's face. "What if he didn't have a reason for choosing me? What if I just happened to be in his inner circle? Like those serial killers who just kill for the thrill of it. They don't stalk a victim or choose one for a specific reason. They just happen to be there. What if that was Gordon?"

"He was the President's son. He probably could've had any girl in your school. He pursued you." Claire reminded her daughter. "Killers who murder random people don't do that. They kill for the passion. Gordon wanted you. . .as much as I hate to admit that. Honestly, either way, random or planned, calculated or sudden, his reason will never be enough to explain why everything happened. He sealed his own fate. We just gave him his conclusion a lot sooner than expected."

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	46. Chapter 46

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"Here are the pages, Sir." Doug breathed, holding out the file the police had handed to them a few short hours ago. At least, they were short for everyone else. He felt like he had just survived a week of torture in his office while reading Gordon Walker's darkest thoughts and fantasies about the woman he loved most in the world, the woman he would kill for, die for, if needed. "After James reads them, I think it would be wise to come up with a story for her to tell those detectives tomorrow. We all need to be on the same page."

Francis slowly took the file as if it contained an explosive device, not sure whether or not he wanted to even share the same space with it. But, his eyes didn't waiver from Doug. The man looked like he had aged two decades. There were dark bags under his eyes, frown lines as if he had been in agony. His normal demeanor, the way he usually carried himself was replaced with the man he had picked up off the sidewalk nearly two decades ago when he had reached his rock bottom.

"Doug, are you alright?" He asked, his southern drawl rolling off his tongue laced with concern.

Doug stared at his boss for a moment before finally giving a short, brief shake of the head. "Eventually. Right now, no."

Francis dropped the file and stood from behind his desk in the Oval Office. "Whatever you need to do, do it. An AA meeting. Seeing James. She'll need you in a little while once she starts reading the pages." He pointed his finger into Doug's chest. "And, I won't allow you to go back to your apartment tonight. I don't know what's in these pages, but you look like you're about to swallow the barrel of a gun."

"I wasn't far from it." Doug breathed before meeting Francis's eyes. "I'll have my cell on if you need me. Is she in her room?"

"James has been secluded in there since she and Claire got back. We're still determining how long we should keep her out of the public eye." Francis nodded before glancing back at the file. "And, Doug? Don't do anything to disappoint or upset James." He heard the office door close before he looked up towards the other door, seeing Claire peeking in. She gave him a soft smile as if to commend him for his handling of Doug in that moment. "How did the interview go?"

Claire stepped inside, letting the door close behind her as she sidled up alongside Francis. "Just as planned. They were out before they even got started." When Francis sat back down in his chair, she perched herself on his lap, distracting herself with the paperwork on his desk. "They treated her like she was too young to comprehend what was at stake. They're too naive to comprehend that she'll be their leader someday."

Francis rubbed her back soothingly, content to just sit and relax with her for the moment. "What is she doing?"

"Planning on what she'll do in the State Department." Claire smirked back at him over her shoulder. She squeezed his hand that had resided on her thigh. "What was that about with Doug?"

"He finished reading Gordon's diary entries." Francis whispered before leaning forward, pressing his chest against her back and holding her close. "I think that coupled with his guilt is starting to affect him. He has no problem lying, but he doesn't like to keep things from her. It's almost like a sickness with him. The more he keeps from her, the closer he looks to death. Once the truth comes out, that may kill him too."

Claire frowned, resting her head against his. "Why do you say that? What does he have to feel guilty for?"

Francis kissed her shoulder through her dress. "Remember how we got our hooks into Russo? The cop stopping him. He wasn't alone in the car." He pulled the file closer to him, almost afraid to open it. "The prostitute needed to be dealt with. It happened around the same time James agreed to go out with Gordon apparently. He did something stupid."

"He had sex with a hooker." Claire said, more a statement than an assumption.

Francis sighed. "He paid her to blow him. That was it." He felt Claire tense in his hands. "He's handled her. We won't ever see her or hear from her again."

"But, we both know James doesn't want the open relationship that we have." Claire stated, turning to sit on the edge of Francis's desk. "She doesn't want him sleeping with other women, and she doesn't want to be with other guys."

"Yes, I realize that. I've already lectured him about it." Francis agreed. "But, this is none of our business. We know about it, yes, but this is their relationship. Believe me, if it were anybody else dating James. . .a family would be missing their son, but it's Doug."

Claire didn't respond, knowing that Francis would've done something compulsive by now if it had been a worse situation. Despite wanting to out Doug, she knew that she had never seen James happier. Although that made her happy, it also left her with a gut-wrenching feeling to know that she and Francis would never be enough for their little girl. "He isn't going to tell her during the investigation, right?"

Francis shrugged. "As far as I know, he's waiting until she's over the whole Gordon fiasco. I don't know how long that will take or what it will take, but he's better than any of us at timing."

* * *

James clung onto Doug's shoulders as he held her hips against the wall, thrusting into her one last time before spilling inside her. She moaned into his mouth, biting his bottom lip before leaning back against the wall. His head dropped to her chest, still covered in the dress she had decided to wear that morning. She cupped the back of his head when his breathing was still erratic. "What was that? Doug, you scared me a little there."

"I was scared." Doug breathed before he pulled out of her, letting her legs slowly drop down from his waist to the floor. Her legs wobbled on the heels, but he kept his hands tight on her hips for more than just to keep her steady. "I just needed to remind myself that you were safe. You were with me." He tidied his buckle as she straightened out her dress. "Shit. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"It was worth the result." James smiled gently before kissing him. She gazed up at him, seeing the internal fight still raging behind his eyes. "You read all the pages. That's why you looked so crazed when I saw you."

Doug pecked her lips again. "He may be dead. But, I know exactly how close he got to you when you were most vulnerable." He sighed before putting some space between them. "It just reminds me of how close I came to losing you. Reading those pages, all the secrets he kept. I could cause you to slip right through my fingers."

James furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "What are you talking about? What could Gordon Walker possibly have in those pages that would cause me to leave you?"

Doug sucked in a deep breath and held it, letting to expel from his body as quickly as the words could leave him. "It's not what he wrote in his diary." He gulped. "It's the secrets that everybody is keeping from each other until this all blows over."

". . .What do you mean?" James asked, not entirely sure she wanted to know the answer. If Doug was worried about it, she had every reason in the world to worry. Unless it was something out of his control, Doug didn't worry. He prevented and corrected everything until things were left up to the ones he counted on. "Are my parents making you keep something from me? Something more than Gordon's journal entries?"

Doug shook his head, not daring to meet her eyes. "I did something stupid. Really stupid. Now isn't the right time to tell you, but I promise I will when I think it's right."

James slowly walked up to him, cupping his face in her hands and pressing her forehead to his. "I trust you to make that call." She was about to kiss him again when both their phones chimed on her bed, tossed aside when Doug rushed in to see her. "That has to be a news alert."

"Yeah, but of what?" Doug breathed before they both snatched their phones and scrolled through them. "Jesus fucking Christ. A manhunt for Garrett Walker has begun."

James gaped staring down at the picture of Garrett, one of the first ones taken of him as President, with the bolded headline nearly taking up her entire screen. "I need to see those pages."

* * *

James sat on the living room couch staring the small stack of papers and few photos spread out on the coffee table. Both Francis and Claire had come in with the folders of information. The fraction of those that Doug had selected laid mockingly on the table in front of her. She glanced between all three of them: Doug sitting across from her on the other couch while Francis and Claire stood, staring nervously from each end of the coffee table. "Where are the rest of the papers?"

"Let's just start with these." Doug tried to reason.

"I want all the pages. All the pictures. I want them in order, and nothing should be left out." James stated, her tone and attitude matching the Underwood bluntness that her parents had come to pass onto her. "I need the whole picture. If he had spent two days with me locked up in his bedroom, you can bet he would be blabbing about his sick fantasies in between attacking me." She walked around Francis, heading for the kitchen. "Fix it."

Claire closed her eyes, shaking her head gently. "I told you she wouldn't allow us to coddle her with this."

Francis growled from the back of his throat. "She is the child here. We have the power to tell her what she can and can't do for another two years. These papers contain content even Howard Stern wouldn't dream of if he had a colony of concubines."

Claire sighed. "Yes, we are her parents. We have a say, but this isn't about how she's being raised or a time to punish her. These papers have nothing to do with us. If she were eighteen, we wouldn't know about the papers unless she told us." She gestured towards her and Francis's room. "Doug, please go get all the pages. It's going to be a long night for James. The sooner she starts, the sooner her torture will be over."

"I really don't think that's what's best for James." Doug said, standing up and looking between the two parents.

"I really don't think you get choose what's best for James considering the scandal of yours we are keeping hidden." Claire spit back, invading his personal space. "I don't care if you _took care_ of her. The evidence is still there, and James will eventually hear about it from you."

Francis cleared his throat and nodded his head towards the bedroom. "Get the rest of it, Doug." He watched as his Chief of Staff stormed into his room after a moment's hesitation to retrieve the papers. "Claire, we were both on his side about this not ten minutes ago."

"If you're going to defend him, why don't you go tell our daughter about his little indiscretion then?" Claire retorted, sidling up beside him. "I get he's your best friend, but he cheated on our daughter. You said it yourself. If he were anybody else-"

"I know what I said." Francis breathed before James walked back into the room with a beverage from the fridge. She sat back down on the couch and acted as if nothing were abnormal about the words shared between all four of them. "The cops talked to your mother and I before they came up here to meet with you."

James glanced up at Francis, resting her glass on a coaster on the coffee table. "And?"

Francis crossed his arms over his chest. "It seems as if the secret service members that night have all confessed to what they did, being paid off by Walker. They all gave their statements to what Gordon did to you in that car." He watched the brief strike of panic sweep over her face before she recaptured her composure. "How far did Gordon get before he decided to slice your leg open, darlin'?"

James retracted her arms from her glass, a slight tremor in her hands as she crossed them over her chest. "I stopped him before he touched me."

Claire sat down on the table, cupping James's face in her hands. "Sweetheart, just tell us what happened. You'll feel so much better when you do. I promise. It doesn't matter if he grazed your neck or unbuttoned your pants. He tried to attack you. We just want to know what happened that night."

James brushed Claire's hands off of her and stood, caving in on herself as she moved to the windows overlooking the lawn. "I let my guard down. . .just for a split second. He had me pinned under him and kissed me. God, I wanted to throw up. When he reached for my pants, I kicked him off of me. He had his knife in the boots he was wearing. I hadn't even reached for the door when he took it out." She took in a shaky breath, feeling the sting in her eyes. "I started bleeding immediately. I thought he cut an artery or a vein, and I swore I was going to die. But, I didn't want to die in that car with him."

"So, you got out of the car." Francis stated.

"I knew that he'd do whatever he wanted to me if I stayed in that car, whether or not I passed out." James whispered, squeezing her eyes shut to prevent any tears from falling. "The streets aren't a lot safer, but I was more comfortable with not knowing the outcome in that moment. So, I got out and started walking home as fast as I could. I didn't think I'd make it. I barely remember walking through the front door."

Francis reached out and wrapped his arms around his daughter, kissing her head. "I remember it vividly. I don't think your mother and I will ever forget how insanely scared we were when you came in with all that blood, barely conscious." He held her tighter. "I didn't want to have you because I was afraid of something like this happening."

James buried her nose into Francis's chest, inhaling deeply with a small smile. "You couldn't live without me, old man."

"Neither of us could." Claire whispered as she brushed back James's hair. "The two agents in the car with you said that you fought back and told Gordon no before you climbed out. They claim they didn't know you were stabbed when you climbed out of the car though."

"Gordon had the divider up the whole night. I doubt they did know." James sighed, pulling back slightly from her father's embrace. "Once they saw Dad carry me into the hospital on the news, they probably put two and two together and confronted Garrett about Gordon's behavior."

"They'll still be fired either way." Francis stated before giving James one last squeeze. "I should be getting back to the office though. I'll be back in an hour or two."

James chuckled when Francis looked back expectantly at Claire who seemed to be solely focused on her, accessing whether or not she would be needed during her exploration of Gordon's journal entries. "Go. I'll call you back if I need you."

Claire kissed James's head. "Do not hesitate. We shouldn't be long. You know, it's only another world crisis." She caressed her daughter's cheek briefly before capturing Francis's hand as they both headed to the Oval.

James turned when Doug walked out of her parents' room with the rest of the evidence the police had brought. He began setting it down on the coffee table, avoiding making eye contact. "Doug. . .why don't you go back to your office? You've got a job that's not babysitting me around here."

"I want to be here for you." Doug stated with a shake of his head.

"I know, but you'll go crazy sitting around here waiting for me to read through the pages." James stated before pulling him away from the folders. "Just go back to your office. Help figure out the China crisis or the Russia crisis. There's bound to be some sort of problem somewhere that needs to be handled. My parents will need your help with that. I've got this covered, and I've got your number if I need to get a hold of you."

Doug glanced back down at the files. As much as he wanted to be there for her, she was right. He wasn't the type to sit around and wait, and his time spent with those files was already more than he had ever wanted to spend in all his lifetimes. He turned back to her. "Are you sure?"

James squeezed his hands in hers before directing him towards the exit. "Positive."

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	47. Chapter 47

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Francis tapped his desk nervously with the tips of his fingers. His other hand was bunched into a fist, pressed against his face while his elbow relied on the armrest of his chair. Claire sat in the armchair on the other side of the room, head tilted back with her eyes closed. Her heeled feet were resting on the coffee table's edge, and her arms were crossed over her chest. He glanced at the watch on his wrist again and sighed. "It's been four hours, Claire."

"She said she'd call if she needed us." Claire hummed out, her voice showing her nerves despite her relaxed stance.

"She also made a plan and conveniently forgot to tell us she'd be sleeping with Meechum and Doug to accomplish it. She's a good liar, Claire." Francis retorted. "We should've told the truth more."

Claire let a chuckle slip before she could contain it. She finally opened her eyes and gazed back at Francis. "Tell the truth? What? Like tell the world every little thing we've done to get here. We'd be in prison."

Francis stood with tired eyes. "If not to check on her, can we at least go to get some sleep? I think we've had enough saving the world from war for today." He saw Claire hesitate. "You can at least rest your eyes in a comfy bed instead of on that God awful chair. We can check on her on the way to our room."

"I guess checking on her couldn't hurt." Claire sighed, a little relieved to go back and do just that. She stood from the chair and stretched out her back as Francis waited for her by the door. "Is Doug still in his office?"

"I told him to stay there until he got the all clear from me." Francis stated, holding up his cell phone in the palm of his hand. "I figured James would rather us see her before Doug if things got to be too much. I'd prefer it that way too from the way Doug reacted earlier."

Claire nodded. "Good." She walked over to Francis and straightened his tie out of habit. "Once she goes to bed, we need to read those other journal entries as well."

"I know." Francis nodded before resting his hand on the small of her back. "I have a feeling none of us will be getting much sleep tonight."

* * *

Francis walked into the private sector only a step ahead of Claire, both of them seeing James still curled up on the floor between the couch and the coffee table like they had left her. She had changed though, from a dress to sweatpants and a t-shirt. Never normally worn for their daughter. Her face was hidden behind her arms, but they knew that something was bad when they heard her sniff back repeatedly.

Before Francis could say anything, Claire laid on a hand on his back. "Why don't you go change? I have a feeling our night will be spent out here." She whispered. "I'll change once you come out." She waited until Francis departed into their room before tentatively walking closer to the coffee table. "Sweetheart? Honey, are you okay?" She felt stupid for asking the question, but she wasn't sure how to broach the subject. Her daughter rarely cried, and they had never been in this situation. Without knowing what was in those pages, she was forging forward blind.

James sniffed again, shaking her head between her hands. When her voice cracked with her answer, so did Claire's heart. "No."

"Hey, it's okay." Claire breathed, quickly kneeling down beside James and hugging her against her chest. She felt tears prick the back of her eyes when she felt James's soak into her skin. "I've got you. These are just words. The person who wrote them is gone."

"He was so sick, Mom." James choked out. "And, I didn't see it."

Claire kissed her daughter's hair, moving her ponytail away from her face. "Nobody did, baby. That isn't your fault. None of this is your fault. Gordon Walker was very sick. He needed help, but his parents didn't get him that help. Honey, I promise you. No one is going to blame you for this."

Francis emerged from his bedroom in his undershirt and a pair of sweats. He stepped around Claire, sitting behind James on the couch and resting his hand on her back. "Your mother is right, darlin'. We can't change the past now. We're all here and safe."

"Not yet." James's body couldn't contain the sob that came with that reply. "Garrett knew about all of this. He's still out there."

"They're looking for him." Francis said before motioning for Claire to go change.

When Claire stood to hurry to their room, James turned to look at Francis, eyes red and puffy from what looked like hours of crying. "Gordon wanted me to have his child, Daddy. That was his plan."

"C'mere." Francis whispered, holding out his hands for her. She quickly crawled into his lap, allowing him to cradle her against his chest. He cupped the back of her head and rested his chin on her forehead, almost trying to shield her. "That may have been his plan, but you stopped it. Alright? You put that bullet in his head. He won't ever touch you, and I would never let him get away with that. You know I'd do anything to protect you, don't you?"

James hugged her father's torso, resting her head on his shoulder. "I know." She sniffed again, more tears building in her eyes. "He got so close though."

Francis kissed her head before talking into her hair. "Shh, don't even think about that. It's only going to upset you. I've got you right now, safe and sound. Nobody here wants to hurt you. I definitely don't want to see you pregnant at sixteen. Imagine the news coverage." He was relieved to get a small chuckle out of James, even though it was brief and slightly strangled. "There's nothing to worry about right now, darlin'. Just close your eyes and relax. I'm right here."

"We both are." Claire stated as she walked around the other end of the couch and sat down beside Francis. She kissed the back of James's head and stroked her back slowly. "Everything's alright."

* * *

"She says she doesn't want a child with me. As if I'm not worthy to be with her. She should be kissing the ground I walk on. My father is President, a higher rank than her father holds. She acts as if I should be so lucky to talk to her. I'll show her a thing or two. Once I have her to myself, I'll teach her just how lucky she would be to be with me. I'll have her begging to be my girlfriend or begging for me to kill her. One way or another, she'll have my child whether she likes it or not." Claire read off the paper, disgusted that the words were written about her daughter. She set the page aside and set her glasses on top of it before looking over at Francis. He had taken to covering James's ears, knowing that the subconscious could still hear. The last thing they needed was for her to wake up with a night terror caused from Gordon's written words.

Francis stared blankly ahead, gripping on James with a vice-like grip. "Should've killed the son of a bitch the night he came to pick her up for their date." He removed his hand from James's ear and picked up his phone. "Doug hasn't read my all clear message. He must've decided to camp out in his office."

Claire ignored her husband's last remark. "What are we going to do about Garrett? He knew about Gordon's obsession with James. He paid for these photos of her at the house to be taken. Gordon even wrote about Garrett hounding him after James was kidnapped. Garrett suspected him, and he let us stew for five days in our fake despair."

"We'll make him pay." Francis whispered before looking down at James sleeping soundly in his arms. "This would've been easier if she were a boy. We wouldn't have these kinds of problems."

Claire smiled and leaned closer to him, gazing down at their daughter with him. "Yeah, but you wouldn't trade her in even if it made you President the rest of your life." She gently brushed back some stray hairs from James's face, glancing at Francis. His eyes didn't leave their daughter. "Do you remember the first time you got to hold her?"

"It's burned into my memory." Francis hummed.

 _Francis stroked Claire's hair back from her face, smiling at the determined woman he married. He was sure she was in agony after enduring three hours of attempting to push their unborn daughter out of her body. He was sure she was keeping a brave face for him, knowing he'd blow things out of proportion and scream at the doctors for not helping her sooner. "You're doing great, Claire."_

 _Claire squeezed his hand before pushing again, hearing the doctor say something. At this point, his words weren't really registering. She had come this far and had spent too much time mourning the loss of the children she never did meet. She was too close to holding her own baby to really think about the pain her body was handling. She grit her teeth and squeezed her eyes closed, using all of her diminished strength to push out her little girl._

 _"Claire, there she is." Francis's voice breathed into her hair. "She's here."_

 _Claire opened her eyes to see the doctor holding a squirming little girl with a mass of brown hair matted on her head. As soon as her mouth opened, she screamed out in a cry, and she squeezed Francis's hand tighter because she just wanted to protect her. She felt the tears wet her cheeks before realizing she was actually crying. "Francis, that's our baby."_

 _"And, she wants Momma. She's already an active little one." The nurse smiled, placing the baby in Claire's arms._

 _"I'm well aware." Claire grinned, still tired from nights of little to no sleep because of her child's activities. She let out a sob of happiness when she looked down and saw her daughter. "Hello there, beautiful." She chuckled when she stopped screaming and squirming like a fish out of water. "Yes, it's Mommy. Oh my God. I can't believe you're here. Do you know how long I've been waiting for you, sweetheart?"_

 _Francis grinned when his daughter seemed to calm listening to Claire's voice, her little hands balling up into fists and tucking on either side of her head as she stretched out. "Too long." He finished Claire's question for her before kissing her head. "You did wonderfully."_

 _Claire chuckled when their daughter's eyes opened hearing Francis's voice. "Did you hear Daddy? Huh? Did you hear him?" She looked up at Francis and pecked his lips. "Why don't you hold her?"_

 _"Uh," Francis glanced between them. "I'll squash her, Claire."_

 _"Oh, you will not. Just be gentle with her." Claire laughed before holding out their baby to him. She chuckled when Francis awkwardly lifted her into his arms. "I swear, Francis. You are less cagey around Republicans."_

 _"I don't care if I drop them." Francis retorted before bringing his daughter against his chest, cradling her there. She squirmed slightly, her face scrunching up. "Well, don't cry. It's only me." He heard Claire snicker, but was happy to see their baby relax again. Her little eyes opened. "Well, looky there. I told you she'd have your eyes, Claire."_

 _Claire moved the baby blanket back over a tiny leg that had managed to wriggle out. "They could change."_

 _Francis shook his head. "They won't." His entire world seemed to shift when he looked back at their daughter just in time to see her stretch out again, her little fists reaching up towards her head, and yawn as big as her tiny body would allow. "Oh my, little darlin', don't strain yourself." He looked back to Claire with a grin. "We made her, Claire."_

 _Claire snorted out in laughter, rarely witnessing this side of her husband. He was never in a position where he would be uninformed or unprepared, but this moment had caught him off guard. Despite her nine months of literally creating their baby, he hadn't registered it until now, and she adored him for it. "I know, Francis. She just came out of me." She peered back at their daughter. "Don't worry, sweetheart. He's not always this way."_

 _"Do we have a name for the little bundle?"_

 _"It's James."_

"I acted like an idiot." Francis chuckled.

Claire grinned, biting her bottom lip as she ran her fingers through his hair soothingly. "It was endearing. I was glad that the birth of our daughter could catch you off guard. I would've been worried if it hadn't." She looked back at the pages they had just read through, the entries seemed to echo in her head. "Francis, what are we going to do? The police are going to be here in six hours to take her statement. Garrett is still on the loose. Doug's now hiding more secrets than just about the case, and she's falling apart because of this."

Francis sighed, exhaling sharply as he gazed at the coffee table that seemed to be made of paper at this point. "Doug will have to live with his secrets for a while longer. James will be fine once this all blows over. Let's just get a rough statement put together. James can change it however she wants to before she hands it over to police. With the way things went yesterday, I don't think a complete turn around and statement would seem normal to them. They'll have her write it out anyway and sign it at some point. Let's just get it out of the way."

Claire saw Francis's eyes beginning to droop. With each blink, they were getting harder to open. "Why don't we go to bed? She can sleep with us tonight."

Francis shook his head, resting his head against James's as his eyes drifted close. "I just want to hold her a little longer."

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	48. Chapter 48

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 _Claire walked into the den, watching as Francis swore at the video game he was playing. "Anything?"_

 _Francis slammed his fingers against the controller, teeth clenching together as his hands shook. "She hasn't even looked at her messages." He paused the game, standing up. "I'm going to find her."_

 _"Where are you going to look?" Claire asked, glancing down at her phone. "Whatever movie they would've went to would be over by now. You'll be looking for a needle in a very large haystack."_

 _"At least I won't be waiting here useless." Francis retorted._ _He brushed passed her before striding to the front door, but his heart sank when he saw a bloody handprint on the window above the doorknob. "Claire! Call the police!" He yanked open the door, nearly tearing it off the hinges before finding James laying on the ground. She was whiter than a sheet and a pool of blood was starting to dry underneath her wounded leg. "James! Wake up, darlin'."_

 _He kneeled to the ground, trying to shake her awake, when Claire screamed behind him. She rushed beside him, pulling James's body against her chest and burying her face into her brown hair. "No! C'mon, baby. You can't do this. You need to wake up."_

 _"Sir-" Brighton's voice finally rang out as he climbed out of the detail car._

 _Francis glared at him. "Call 9-1-1!" He barked. He clamped his hand down on the gash in James's leg, tearing up when her body felt colder than it should. He looked to his daughter's face. Her lips were blue and no mist collected under her nose in the cold night air. Not even a puff of breath. His hands shook as he hung his head. "She's gone, Claire."_

 _"Don't say that." Claire cried out, clutching on their daughter's body tighter. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks as she rocked back and forth. Her hand reached blindly, fumbling to feel a pulse. After a moment, her body shook with sobs. "NO!" When Francis rested a hand on her back, she held James tighter. "No! Francis, I'm not leaving her."_

 _"She's already gone." Francis breathed, his voice cracking with the three words only she could hear._

Francis gasped as his eyes flew open, his heart pounding in his ears. He could feel the anxiety building in the pit of his stomach, the unbridled fear of how real it felt. Standing from the bed, he sighed in relief when he looked back to see that Claire and James were still sleeping soundly in the darkness of their master bedroom. Despite his compulsion to hold James, he settled for sitting on one of the armchairs facing the bed. He didn't want to disturb them, especially when James had cried herself to exhaustion after reading through Gordon's journal entries. She needed her rest.

He ran a hand down his face before finally feeling the fabric of his pajamas suddenly cool against his skin. He had sweat right through the fabric during his nightmare. But, he continued to sit and stare.

* * *

Claire stretched out gently, careful not to wake James who was huddled into her side. She frowned though when she didn't see Francis on his side of the bed. "Over here." His southern drawl was soft.

She looked over at him, sitting in the armchair facing her side of the bed. He had changed from the night before, his reading glasses sitting on the edge of his nose. He had a small pile of papers on his lap and a pen and cup of coffee in his hands. Judging from the bags under his eyes, he hadn't slept for very long once they decided to go to bed. "What are you doing?"

"Drafting a sample statement for James to give to those detectives." Francis stated, glancing between her and the papers over the black rims. "The sooner this is all over, the sooner we will all have peace."

Claire smiled sympathetically at him, knowing all too well what he was feeling. "What happened, Francis?"

He shook his head, tugging off his glasses and letting them rest on the statement. "Just a nightmare." He saw that look Claire gave him and knew his short answer wasn't going to cut it. "The night of the attack. . .if James hadn't made it inside the house. She laid on our doorstep, lifeless. There would've been nothing I could've done to help her." He rubbed his hand over his face. "Our baby girl. Since we decided to keep her, I vowed to protect her. She may be alive now, but I haven't protected her from what's happened."

 _Claire sat at the dining room table, sitting under the only light on in the house. With her fingers pinched around the stem of her wine glass, she let the red merlot twirl around. It had been twenty minutes since Francis had arrived home to find her news laying out on the table for them both to see. "There's no denying it."_

 _Of course, there was no denying it. Seven pregnancy tests. One for everyday of the past week. All showed the evidence that she was indeed carrying his child. "How far along?" He asked, his eyes tearing away from hers to glance at her flat stomach._

 _"Eight weeks." Claire hummed with a shrug. "At least, that's my best guess. Going to the doctor to verify would mean listening to the heartbeat." She saw the pain flash across his face for a split second. The last time they had heard the heartbeat of their child, she was sixteen weeks along. Someone had found out she was pregnant and tried to use it against him. She had an abortion later that week even when they were both looking forward to having their baby boy. Although they had both agreed to the abortion, Claire was a walking zombie for weeks afterwards. And, she knew Francis had gotten rid of the threat as a way of coping with her pain. "I can't go through that again, Francis."_

 _"I wouldn't dream of putting you through it again." Francis breathed before sitting down beside her. His eyes landed back on the pregnancy tests. "Where are you on this?"_

 _Claire sighed, sliding her wine glass over to him and watching him down it with one gulp. "The same place I was last time, but I won't force you to be a father. We are both too familiar with growing up with parents who aren't exactly thrilled with our existence. I won't allow a child of ours to go through the same thing."_

 _Francis ran a hand down his face before meeting her eyes. "You know my stance hasn't changed."_

 _". . .Make the appointment then." Claire whispered. She didn't allow another word to be said as she stood from the table and made her way upstairs._

He had always felt guilty for that night, and he knew by her attitude towards him up to the appointment that she wanted to keep the baby. But, he wouldn't lie to her. He didn't want their baby. He hadn't really wanted to keep the one before that but hearing the heartbeat made him want to protect it, even from himself. He closed his eyes thinking about the day of the abortion. He sat outside their guest bedroom, waiting to hear the suck of the vacuum, when the doctor and Claire had disappeared inside.

 _Francis pinched the bridge of his nose knowing, yet again, he was killing another part of his wife. She had barely spoken to him since he told her he made the appointment. Unless he requested a direct answer, she hadn't even cast him a glance. But, what was he to do? He wasn't ready to be a father. He never wanted to be a father. He made that clear before they even exchanged vows._

 _His ears perked and his eyes opened though when he heard the door open instead of the vacuum. He stood up and turned to see Claire standing in one of her silk robes, tears pouring down her face, and clutching the fabric closed around her chest and stomach. "Francis, I can't do it. I just can't. I know you don't want to be a father, but I can't get rid of her. If you don't want her, I'll leave, but I'm not getting rid of her."_

 _"Hey, it's okay." Francis soothed, wrapping his arms around her, cradling the back of her head. "If you want her, we'll have her. Alright? No one has to go anywhere." He felt her trembling in his arms, and his guilt tripled realizing just how much he was trying to put her through. "Shh, I've got you. So does this baby. From now on, I won't allow anything to happen to either of you."_

 _Claire let her arms slowly wrap around his neck, feeling better now that she was away from the doctor. "We both know that you'll try your best." She rested her forehead against his, exhaling in relief. "Thank you, Francis."_

"You knew when we decided to keep her that we couldn't possibly do that." Claire whispered, referring to his vow to protect them both. "We've had a rough few months, but, Francis, you have killed for her. You'll continue to kill for her, for us. Yes, bad things will happen, but she's here. Come back to bed. She's breathing proof that your nightmare was just a nightmare."

"I know." Francis nodded. "I know she's safe, but something about it is still bothering me. Twenty blocks. She bled twenty blocks and no one stopped to help her. No one seemed to see her. She didn't get help until she stumbled through our front door."

Claire's eyebrows furrowed at his words. He was right. Somebody should've seen their daughter, especially. . . "Francis, who was our detail out front that night?"

"Brighton." Francis stated without a second thought. His eyes widened when he met Claire's eyes. "You don't think he was in on it, do you? He went with you and James to Texas to visit Elizabeth. If he wanted to hurt us, he already has plenty of access and opportunities."

"Unless he's working for Garrett." Claire whispered before James started to stir. She slowly rubbed her daughter's back. "It's still early. Go back to sleep, sweetheart."

James's eyes remained closed, but she turned to Francis's side of the bed, reaching for him. "Where's Daddy?"

Francis stood and walked around to his side of the bed as he spoke. "I'm up, darlin'. Do you need something?"

"We need to prepare my statement." James yawned, already falling back asleep.

"We've got some time." Francis breathed before sitting down beside her and stroking her hair. "We'll wake you up in a little bit." He smiled when she reached up and took his hand into hers. It didn't matter if she was two or sixteen. Her hand felt small in his hand, but it always reminded him of what he needed to protect in this world. He waited until her breathing evened out again before looking to Claire who had moved to propping herself up on her side. "What are you thinking about?"

Claire kissed James's head before standing up and making her way to the bathroom. "What our lives would be if she had a protective older brother."

Francis sighed when Claire's eyes met his. "I would go back if I could, but, if we would've had him, she wouldn't be here. After we had her, you were the first to state we were content."

Claire nodded, leaning against the bathroom door. "I know. She just deserves that I guess. Although, he'd probably take after you and start killing any boy who looked at her funny." She hummed with a smile. "If there is an afterlife, do you think he'd watch over her?"

"I think he was there with us the day we decided to have her." Francis stated before jutting his chin towards. "Go ahead. I want you to read the statement before we run it by James." He watched as Claire disappeared inside the bathroom before looking back down at their daughter. It wasn't often that he and Claire spoke of their unborn son, and they never did when James was around. Before she was born, they avoided the topic all together. He and Claire hadn't ever really considered what came after death. They were always so focused on what they wanted to accomplish in life to ever really debate the topic. If there was, he really did hope that James had a big brother looking out for her. She deserved to have more than just Claire and himself. If he was out there watching over someone, he hoped it was James.

* * *

Claire made another note on the mock statement Francis had drafted as she sat at the small kitchen table with her cup of coffee. She had made a small breakfast for herself, but it was quickly pushed away when she started reading. Her attention to the pages faltered though when James walked in looking as if she had just rolled out of bed. "Good morning. How did you sleep?"

"Well, no nightmares." James sighed as she sat down hugging herself. "I still feel exhausted though."

"I can see. Your eyes are still bloodshot from crying last night." Claire stated, pinching her daughter's chin and examining her face. "I told you to call your father or I if something upset you."

James brought her knees up to her chest. "I was still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that Gordon basically marked me as the mother of his future children." She bit her lip seeing the papers laid out in front of Claire. "Is that the statement?"

"Yes, your father wrote it this morning when he couldn't go back to sleep." Claire stated, not mentioning why Francis couldn't go back to sleep. "For the most part, I think it's ready. You just need to read through it and decide what you want to add or take out."

"Swell." James huffed out sarcastically as she tidied the papers in front of her. "Where's Doug? I didn't see him in my room."

Claire shrugged. "He must've stayed in his office last night. Your father messaged him, but I don't think he replied to it." She took hold of the newspaper along with her cup of coffee. "Those detectives will be here in less than two hours though. Once you get through the statement, you need to rewrite it in your own handwriting to give to them. You should also change before they arrive."

James gave her mother a mock salute. "Yes, Madam President." She dropped her head to her hand, leaning her elbow against the table. "I didn't mean to scare you guys last night."

Claire shook her head and reached over, caressing her cheek. "We were just worried." She glanced back at the paper before remembering her and Francis's conversation. "Has Brighton said or done anything strange to you lately?"

James frowned as she gathered the marked up papers of her statement. "I've barely seen him since the detail found me in Gordon's room. Before that, Meechum was always with me. Why do you ask?"

"Your father and I were just talking about him earlier. Come to think of it, we haven't seen much of him either since you were found. He was reprimanded for you being kidnapped on his watch, but I haven't really spoken to him since." Claire said more to herself than to her daughter. "The night of the attack, do you remember anything strange outside the house?"

James scoffed. "I was bleeding on the sidewalk. I was more concerned about getting inside the house." She leaned back in her chair, gazing at her mother. "What's going on? You and Daddy found something out, didn't you? Is Brighton involved in all of this?"

"I'm not sure, but he's looking more guilty by the second." Claire sighed before taking James's hand into hers. "Brighton was our detail the night of your attack. He was outside the house. He should've seen you." She shook her head quickly. "We'll have to discuss it later. You have a lot to do before that statement needs to be handed over." She watched as James grabbed the statement and hurried out of the kitchen, presumably to her bedroom, as Claire grabbed her phone and pressed it against her ear.

The first ring didn't even finish when Doug's groggy voice filtered through. "Yes, Mrs. Underwood."

"Where are you?" Claire asked, foregoing a mutual greeting.

"In my office. I've been here all night." Doug said, his voice showing his lack of sleep, or at least good sleep. "What can I help you with?"

Claire stood from the table and tossed her uneaten breakfast. "I need you to dig into Brighton on our security detail. I think he's involved somehow with Garrett and Gordon."

Something in Doug must've snapped, because he suddenly sounded as if he were being called into battle. "I'm on it."

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